CHAPTER XL
It was early next morning that Cameron's cart with its slowly moving, heavy grey horse drew up before Steve's, and Mrs. Cameron herself got down from it.
The Schoolmaster was pacing the long kitchen. He had not been still a moment since Pete M'Coll brought his news. Pete had gone back to the Wirree to see if anything more had been heard of Davey, whether he was to be brought back to the district for trial, or was being held in Melbourne. The story of his arrest had come through on the vessel that brought stores to Port Southern, but it was very vague. A rumour had reached the Albatross an hour or two before she was sailing that a young man saying he was David Cameron—Young Davey—Cameron of Ayrmuir's son, had been arrested for cattle-stealing, and that he and a nigger were being detained on the charge. Pete had not returned, but the Schoolmaster set about making preparations for a journey. Deirdre had packed his tucker bag; his blanket was rolled up to strap on his saddle.
"Which way are you going?" Deirdre asked.
She knew that the schooner would probably be gone before he could reach the Port, and that it would continue its passage along the coast to Rane before turning back and making for Port Phillip. He had thought of all that too.
"I'll ride," he said.
"What are you going to do," she asked anxiously.
"I don't know!"
Out of the chaos of his thoughts no plan of action had yet formed.