We drew up before a substantial-looking building, with an open square in front, where a company of soldiers were parading.
A large gate was opened for our admission, and as soon as our party had entered, it was shut and bolted, and the crowd excluded, although many crawled upon the walls and sat there patiently, until the bushrangers were placed under lock and key, in a strong dungeon, where hardly a ray of light penetrated. A guard was stationed before the door with orders to allow no one to converse with those inside, and then, for the first time for many days, I and my friend found ourselves at liberty.
"Come," whispered Smith, "place your arms in the cart and we will go home. There is nothing further for us to do."
"Hullo," we heard Murden shout, "where are you going to?"
We waited for a moment, until he, in company with the captain, came within speaking distance, and then we replied,—
"We are going where we can get shelter and something to eat."
"Take them to the station, Murden, and let them stop there for the night, and see that they have something to eat. To-morrow we will see what we can do for them."
"We are able to take care of ourselves, sir," replied Fred, haughtily, "and do not need the charities of a station house. When we do we will let you know."
I saw the face of the captain turn a deep purple, as we continued our walk, and I was not surprised to hear him thunder out,—
"Stop, sir; I wish to speak further with you."