"Up with him again!" cried the angry lieutenant; but his rage was only momentary, and before the men could put his order into execution, he countermanded it.
"You are too impudent a scoundrel to die immediately; a few months' solitary confinement in the prison at Melbourne, with nothing but bread and water to eat, and the certain prospect of a long, lingering death, will tame your spirit, and make you docile."
"Do you think so?" asked the bushranger, with a sneer.
Murden made no reply.
"If I am placed in solitary confinement," the robber said, "I shall have the more time to think upon the many poor devils who have begged their lives of me, and yet never got their prayers granted. I shall think of the meet revenge I have had for my injuries during a long term of imprisonment at the hulks. I shall think of the many pounds of gold dust which I have robbed from passing trains; and better than all, I shall laugh to know that the police force of Melbourne cannot find it to enrich themselves."
"Devil!" yelled one of the men, more fiery than the rest, "do you mock us?"
He raised his carbine, and with no gentle hand let the breech fall upon the fellow's head. The blow loosened the skin, and let loose a torrent of blood.
"Yes, this is a fair sample of the manner in which the police of Melbourne treat prisoners. Is there any wonder that they fight desperately to prevent being taken?"
He dipped his finger into his blood, and held it aloft for his comrades to see. Had those men been free, our number would have been lessened in a very few minutes; for such expressions of rage passed over their faces, that it seemed as though the devil had entered their bodies.
"You did wrong to strike him, Manuel," Murden said, and that was all the reproof the man received.