‘“Sooner to hell,” says I. I felt that I would go through fire and water for him. He trated me liked a man!’
‘And did you meet any bushrangers?’ said Wilfred.
‘We did then—the Tinker’s gang—three of them, and a boy. They bailed us up in a narrow place. I took steady aim and shot the Tinker dead. As well him as me—not that I cared a traneen for my life. My master dropped a second man; the other one and the boy bolted for their lives.
‘“Well done, Tom!” says my master, when it was all over. “You were a good cavalry man lost”—he was in the Hussars, no less, at home. “We don’t part asy, I can tell you. You deserve your freedom, and you’ll get it.”
‘He was betther than his word. I got a conditional pardon, not to go beyond the colonies. Sure I had little taste for lavin’ them. I stayed with him till he died; the next place I went to was Warbrok, as I tould ye the first day I seen you.’
‘Did you ever hear what became of your child?’
‘Ne’er a one of me knows, nor cares. If he’s turned out well, the less he knows of me the better. If he’s gone to the dogs, there’s scoundrels enough in the country already. But I nigh forget tellin’ ye, I made money once by dalin’ in cattle, and every year I sent home £50, thinkin’ it might do good to the child.’
‘And do you know if it went safe?’
‘Sure I got a resate for every pound of it, just as if a lawyer had written it, thankin’ me, but never sayin’ a word about the boy, but that it would be used for his larning.’
‘And what made you leave it off?’