Mr. H. fell into the habit of borrowing his collections to pay his gambling debts. He was allowed a certain number of days at the beginning of each month to complete his returns, and send in his cash. So he made use of the money collected during the days of grace to repay any sums he had borrowed from the public cash during the preceding month. But the cards were against him. One morning an Inspector of Accounts from Melbourne appeared unexpectedly in his office.
In those days there were no railways and no telegraphs. Their introduction was an offensive nuisance to us. The good old times will never come again, when we could regulate our own hours of attendance, take unlimited leave of absence, and relieve distress by having recourse to the Government cash. When Grimes was Auditor-General every officer was a gentleman and a man of honour. In the bush no bank account was kept, as there was no bank within fifty or a hundred miles; and it was an implied insult to expect a gentleman to produce his cash balance out of his pocket. As a matter of courtesy he expected to be informed by letter two or three weeks beforehand when it was intended to make an official inspection of his books, in order that he might not be absent, nor taken unawares.
When the Inspector appeared, Mr. H. did not lose his presence of mind, or show any signs of embarrassment. He said he was glad to see him (which was a lie), hoped he had had a pleasant journey through the bush; asked how things were going on in Melbourne, and made enquiries about old friends there. But all the while he was calculating chances. He had acquired the valuable habit of the gambler and speculator, of talking about one thing while he was thinking about another. His thoughts ran on in this style: "This fellow (he could not think of him as a gentleman) wants to see my cash; haven't got any; must be near five hundred pounds short by this time; can't borrow it' no time to go round' couldn't get it if I did' deuced awkward; shall be given in charge; charged with larceny or embezzlement or something; can't help it' better quit till I think about it." So apologising for his absence for a few minutes on urgent business, he went out, mounted his horse, and rode away to the mountains.
The inspector waited five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes. He made enquiries, and finding that Mr. H. had gone away, he examined the books and vouchers, and concluded that there should be a cash balance of more than four hundred pounds payable to revenue. He looked about the office for the cash, but did not find any. Then the police began to look for Mr. H., but week after week passed by, and Mr. H. was neither seen nor heard of.
There were only two ways of leaving South Gippsland that could be considered safe; one was by sea from Port Albert, the other by the road over the mountains. If anyone ventured to desert the beaten track, and tried to escape unseen through the forest, he was likely to be lost, and to be starved to death. The only man ever known to escape was an eccentric farmer, a "wandering outlaw of his own dark mind," as Byron so darkly expressed it. He deserted his wife one morning in a most systematic manner, taking with him his horse and cart, a supply of provisions, and all the money he was worth. A warrant for his arrest was issued, and the police were on the look-out for him at all the stations from Port Albert to Melbourne, but they never found him. Many weeks passed by without any tidings of the man or his team, when one day he drove up to his own gate, unhitched his horse, and went to work as usual. On enquiry it was found that he had gone all the way to Sydney overland, on a visit to an old friend living not far from that city. It was supposed that he had some reason for his visit when he started, but if so, he lost it by the way, for when he arrived he had nothing particular to say. After a few days' rest he commenced his return journey to South Gippsland, and travelled the whole distance without being observed by the watchful police. When asked about his travels, his only remark was, "Splendid horse; there he is between the shafts; walked twelve hundred miles; never turned a hair; splendid horse; there he is."
But Mr. H. lacked the intellect or the courage to perform a similar fool's errand successfully. He rode up to the police station at Alberton, and finding from the officer in charge that he was wanted on a warrant, he supplied that want. He stated that he had been on a visit, for the benefit of his health, to a friend in the mountains, a rail-splitter, who had given him accommodation in his hut on reasonable terms. He had lived in strict retirement. For a time he was in daily and nightly fear of the appearance of the police coming to arrest him; every sound disturbed him. In about ten days he began to feel lonely and disappointed because the police did not come; neither they or anybody else seemed to be looking for him, or to care anything about him. Heroic self-denial was not his virtue, and he felt no call to live the life of a hermit. He was treated with undeserved neglect, and at the end of four weeks he resolved that, as the police would not come to him, he would go to the police.
He unburdened his mind, and made a confession to the officer who had him in charge. He explained how he had taken the money, how he had lost it, and who had won it. It relieved his mind, and the policeman kept the secret of confession until after the trial. Then he broke the seal, and related to me confidentially the story of his penitent, showing that he was quite as unfit for the sacerdotal office as myself.
Mr. H. on his trial was found not guilty, but the department did not feel inclined to entrust him with the collection or custody of any more cash. In succeeding years he again served the Government as State school teacher, having received his appointment from a minister of merciful principles. A reclaimed poacher makes an excellent gamekeeper, and a repentant thief may be a better teacher of youth than a sanctimonious hypocrite.