Even while Fred was entertaining us with news he was busily engaged in starting a fire in the stove for the purpose of preparing our breakfast.
"It is too late to hope to escape bloodshed," Fred continued, "unless concessions are made on the part of the government, which are not looked for. I am informed that the commissioner sends despatches to the governor-general every day, in which he represents the miners as on the point of yielding, and that energy and firmness are alone required to subdue them to his wishes, and prevent further outbreaks. You see how shamefully he is misleading the government, for there are not two hundred men in Ballarat, exclusive of the police force, but who will fight against the tax."
"How is it known that the commissioner sends such despatches?" I asked.
"Why, to tell you the truth," said Fred, sinking his voice to a whisper, "a party of men ambushed the courier day before yesterday, and rifled his despatches. The letters contained a request for more men and plenty of ammunition, and a hope to have the rebels suing for mercy in less than two weeks."
"And how are our countrymen acting?" I asked.
"They are not so backward as I could wish," replied Fred; "for they should remember that we are on a foreign soil, and that an active part is not required of us. But few can withstand the flattery that has been brought to bear upon them, and as a general thing they are all arrayed with the miners. Their rifles are wanted, and dreadful havoc they will make if blows are exchanged."
"And you have taken no part in the question as yet?" Mr. Brown asked.
"No; although offers in abundance have been made by government agents and the leaders in the revolutionary movement. We have too many thousand dollars at stake to trifle with public affairs, although if—"
Fred paused while pouring out the coffee, and looked hard at Mr. Brown.