At that moment the sound of horses' hoofs was heard on the gravel, and a voice cried 'Halt!' Mrs. Kyley's broad figure filled the doorway.
'How many of those blackguard rebels are you hiding in your tent, Mother
Kyley?' said the sergeant.
'Is that you, Sergeant Wallis? Was there ever so attentive an admirer? You'd follow me to the world's end for the love you have of me. I've a dozen rebels inside. Come and be introduced.'
A tall bearded digger with a loaf of bread under his arm had slouched from the business tent, and stood watching the scene with incurious eyes.
'Who the devil are you, and where did you spend last night, my man?' said the trooper.
'I'm a party by the name of Smith, Ephraim Smith—called Eph. I spent last night in my bunk, bein' too damn drunk to join the boys down there, worse luck!'
'Your license, Mr. Ephraim Smith.'
The license was handed up, and found correct. 'You had too much discretion to burn your license with the rest of the seditious blackguards, at any rate, Mr. Smith.'
As it happens.'
'And your ruffianly husband, Mrs. Kyley?'