"And when you catch him what will you do?"
"Do you see this die, Bridgland?" asked Reg, as he produced his case. "This is his device. I'll brand him with it on both ears. He shall be a marked man for life."
"But that's rather dangerous, is it not?"
"Listen, Brigland. I have sworn by the corpse of the girl I loved that I would avenge her death, and I will do it at any cost. Your high-class Englishman looks upon a woman's honour as his legitimate prey, and his fellows feast and toast and testimonialise his success in his nefarious deeds; but we Australians are made of different stuff from the rotten fabric of European civilisation. We hold the honour of our women in respect, and we have only one law for those who sully or sport with it—the law that a right-minded man makes for himself. Here is a murderer gone to our country to continue his infamous amusement. Mark my words, Bridgland, if he ever returns alive to England, he will return so that it is impossible for him to hold up his head. Now good-bye, old chap. When you see me again, rest assured Australia will have been revenged."
"My God!" said Bridgland to himself when Reg had left him. "I would rather be dead than have a sleuth-hound like that on my track. Wyck, your time has come, but not before you deserve it."
The final arrangements were completed, and Reg started on his journey. He bade a fond farewell to the Whytes, and his last word rang in Oliver Whyte's ears for many a day. It was "Revenge."
CHAPTER VII.
HAL.
"Now then, Reginald Morris, my name is Allen Winter. I am going to have it out with you," said a tall, handsome man, fully six feet in his socks and broad in proportion, as he closed the cabin door, and stood with his back to it.