‘What a curious sensation it must be to be shot at!’ she said, gazing dreamily over the trackless Waste, where the red sunset spread a wondrous [234] ]blazonry, weirdly gorgeous in the pageant of the fading eve. ‘How did you feel, Mr. Southwater?’
‘There’s no time to feel anything unless you’re hit. Newstead said it was like a crack with a stone—hardly realised till you drop; then, of course, you are all the time wanting to get at the other fellow. At least that’s my experience. It was all so sudden: I had only just written home to my friends, saying it was absurd to think of a goldfield as rude and lawless—that, in fact, it was much safer than London at midnight. A minute or two afterwards, we were fighting for our lives and hard-earned gold; more surprising still—but—perhaps——’
‘Oh! go on, pray,’ pleaded Miss Jean, whose interest was now fully aroused, as was evidenced by her sparkling eyes and changing colour—‘what could be more surprising?’
‘I only meant that it was queer, though folks at home wouldn’t realise it, that our best and boldest defender, poor Dick Andrews, who really won the fight for us, turns out to have been a notorious criminal, known in connection with the death of an Inspector of police in another colony.’
‘Poor fellow! perhaps he had suffered injustice—one never knows. What became of him?’
‘He was mortally wounded in the engagement, and made an edifying end next day, happy in the thought that his wife and children were provided for.’
The girl was silent for a little space, and then said in a changed voice, ‘Can you tell me, Mr. Southwater, can any one explain, why what are [235] ]called bad men are so much more interesting than ordinary well-behaved people? They should not be, but that they are there’s no denying.’
‘Hard to say—must be a natural sympathy for what Marcus Clarke calls “the thoroughbred upstanding criminal.” Sort of glamour—particularly affecting women, strange to say. Men understand the breed better. And yet any one more unlike the received notion of the hardened outlaw than poor Dick couldn’t be.’
‘Now, what was he like?’
‘The regular Sydney-side native. Tall, spare, muscular, or, rather, sinewy of frame, with regular features, chiefly unrelaxed, but wearing a pleasant expression at times. Low-voiced, and unpretending in demeanour, though wonderfully good at all manner of bush work. Reserved, for reason good, as may be imagined, yet respected “on the field,” and held to be liberal in all that concerned his fellow-workers. A perfect horseman, as a matter of course.’