Force and Fraud (14 page)

And then, he loved her father's memory – a love that gratitude for the handsome legacy would naturally increase. She was
so
glad that her father had remembered poor dear Pierce; as for herself, she cared no more for money than she had done four years ago, when she talked of love and a cottage, at Baden.

Such were the reflections of Flora McAlpin respecting her disinterested friend, as she watched him ride off to visit the prisoner. But from these ‘maiden meditations' her thoughts reverted to a certain truism, viz., ‘If you want a thing
well done, do it yourself
', and happening to see Harry, who was engaged tying up the luxuriant branches of a vine, she went towards him, and asked at what hour the stage coach started for Melbourne.

“At four in the morning, sharp, Miss Flora,” replied Harry.

“It will be very difficult to reach it in time, the carriage road is so far round, and I must take a box of some sort,” added Flora thoughtfully.

Harry looked puzzled, and she continued, “Tell one of the men to saddle a horse directly. I want him to take a letter to Mr Roberts.”

“I'll go. Miss Flora, in less than no time.”

“Thank you, Harry, but I mean you to drive me to
The Southern Cross
this evening. I shall sleep there tonight, and go to Melbourne by the coach tomorrow. I intend seeing the counsel myself. I don't mind telling
you,
but would rather it was not generally known; and now I must write to Mr Roberts to secure me a place, or they will all be taken by the gentlemen returning from the dinner.”

“It's likely that some of them that's fit will be going,” remarked Harry.

Flora retired to write her note; and Harry, as he took his way to the stable, exclaimed “The Lord grant
he
didn't do it, for she
is
a jewel.”

Flora's messenger was soon despatched, and, a few hours later, she herself followed; having first written to Pierce Silverton stating her resolution to see Mr Argueville herself, and begging him to make every effort that might lead to the discovery of the
real murderer.

A little surprise was expressed by some of the bystanders when Miss McAlpin alighted at the door of
The Southern Cross
. She had often called there before; but to do so whilst a public dinner was at its height was an act not very becoming for a refined young lady. Surely
she
did not want to hear the songs. A crowd had collected for this purpose, and, the windows of the dining-hall being open, these were sufficiently audible; some of them were very good, a great deal better than the speeches, which were particularly audible also. It would appear that the gentlemen had passed through the phases of piety and patriotism, and were now waxing convivial. They had toasted royalty and nationality, and all sorts of institutions, home and colonial, and now they were toasting each other.

Miss McAlpin, on entering, encountered Mr Lovelaw, who officiated as master of the ceremonies, being proudly conspicuous by a white satin rosette attached to a button-hole. He looked rather aghast, perhaps thinking that the young lady had come to denounce Mr O'Twig to his brother Masons; and not wishing to identify himself too decidedly with either party, he vanished into the little parlour communicating with the bar.

Visions of sundry other gentlemen were also seen, clad in that very appropriate costume for a semi-tropical climate, viz., a black coat, etceteras black also, a stiff white necktie, and, in honour of the festivity, an apron, that couldn't be useful, and, despite its glossy texture, its blue ribbons, and gold tinsel, was
not
ornamental.

Those who saw Miss McAlpin seemed rather surprised at her presence, and their surprise was increased when, without stopping to address any of them, she shook hands with Mr Roberts and proceeded with him to his wife's apartment.

The kind-hearted landlady was lying on her bed. She had dressed herself and made an effort to attend to her household duties, but was not equal to the task, and had become almost delirious with pain, with anxiety respecting Herbert Lindsey, and solicitude about the credit of her feast. This was the first time she had not superintended the laying of the cloth, the arrangement of the dessert, and the dishing of the dinner; and though assured that all was perfect, and that the greatest satisfaction had been expressed, she could not help exclaiming every now and then, “To think that I should be laid up the day of a Freemason's dinner!”

“My dear Mrs Roberts, I am very sorry for your accident,” said Flora, as she approached the bedside of the sufferer.

“Ah, then. Miss McAlpin, there's another thing that bothers me; that I can't get up and receive you as I ought.”

“Pray do not speak of such a thing; but I hope I am not putting you out of the way.”

“No, not a bit. You are to have Mr Tippleton's room; the waiter says he's fast asleep in the parlour, and he always takes his spell; he won't wake till you are twenty miles from this, and if he should, there's a sofa for him. But I'm glad you've made your mind to go to Melbourne and tell the judge of the capers of that O'Twig.”

“It's the barrister who is to defend Mr Lindsey that I am going to see, Mrs Roberts.”

“Sure, and the judge will defend him too. The impudence of O'Twig to send the likes of Mr Lindsey to the lock-up. He no more did it than myself.”

“Thank you for your kind expressions, Mrs Roberts; but can you tell me if public opinion is in his favour?”

“I guess it is with them that comes near me; and it's
himself
that would go bail for him, wouldn't you, Roberts?”

“I offered any amount; and there isn't a decent man in the district who wouldn't do the same thing,” said the landlord.

“How kind. But why was it not accepted?”

“It is not the custom in cases of this sort. But at the trial we will all speak in his favour;
that
must have influence. But it is my duty to tell you that circumstantial evidence is against him. It may be that there is something going on we don't know of. I'll have an eye to matters though, and, perhaps, shall find out if poor Lindsey has enemies, as people are apt to speak their minds when they are half-seas over, and there'll be lots of that sort here.”

The hospitable landlady interrupted her husband, exclaiming, “Bless my life, Roberts! All this time Miss McAlpin is eating nothing. Ring the bell for Mary.”

Mr Roberts did as directed. Mary entered, received orders, retired, and presently re-entered, bearing a tray containing cold turkey, hot coffee, wine, and a goodly portion of the dessert. Miss McAlpin was compelled to taste some of these delicacies, and others were packed in a basket for the morning's journey. By and bye, young Garlick made his appearance, and, after prescribing for his patient, he began to bewail the discovery of his practical joke.

“M.U.F.F. over the head of that slow coach, old Lovelaw! Wouldn't it have been a lark, Miss McAlpin?” he said, in a tone of regret.

“I should not have been at all sorry,” replied Flora, who sometimes was not averse to a little mischief.

“He said you did pitch into him yesterday. And when he got home, Mrs L. treated him to a scene; Mrs O'T., too, flared up in
her
style. I was called in; and, by Jove! I think the cat had never done so much damage in all her life.”

“What could the cat have to do in the matter?” asked Flora in a tone of surprise.

“Why, don't you know that in all well-regulated households a cat is kept on purpose to run away with cold turkeys and – we'll save her the trouble this time; first-rate bird this, this, Mrs R., and the sparkling moselle quite stunning! Here's my love to you, and may you soon be on your pins again.”

Mr Garlick helped himself unceremoniously to the good things provided for Miss McAlpin, and the young lady, amused at his gastronomic powers, remarked that he would not leave anything for the cat.

“Well, I see you understand. Now, isn't a cat useful when turkeys
are
run away with, and glasses come to grief? But Mrs O'T's cat breaks the whiskey bottle, and the illustrious matron is overpowered by the fumes.”

“Fumes
is it? It'll take more than
fumes
to overpower Molly O'Twig. She'd a still of her own when Tim kept the shanty,” cried Mrs Roberts from her couch.

The apartment of the good hostess was pretty well thronged with visitors, amongst whom came Mr Silverton, eager alike to condole with the landlady, and converse with her fair guest. After performing the former duty, he seated himself by Flora, saying, “I found your letter on my return from Mount Alpin, and couldn't let you go without bidding you farewell.”

“I am sorry that you took so much trouble, Mr Silverton,” was Flora's reply.

“Trouble! On whom should the care of you devolve, if not on me? But are you resolved to go to Melbourne?”

“Certainly. But tell me about Herbert, how does he look? How does he bear this calamity?”

“The lad's well enough. Though I am sorry to say he does not bear affliction with a very Christian-like spirit. He says that as soon as he is at liberty, he will horsewhip O'Twig.”

“Of course he will,” replied Flora.

“The Lord send it!” exclaimed Mrs Roberts, Bridget, and Mary, in chorus.

“He is
not yet
at liberty, and you must not take it for granted that he
will
be. But rest assured, that I will do all in my power both for him and for you,” said Pierce, taking Flora's hand in his.

“I know you will,” she replied, withdrawing her hand. For the first time in her life, Flora felt some embarrassment in his presence.

Mr Silverton was a very temperate man, so it is possible that a couple of glasses of sparkling moselle had gone to his head, as his cheeks glowed, his eyes glistened and pressed Flora's hand more warmly than he had ever done before. “Where do you propose staying in Melbourne?” he at length asked.

“I shall got to an hotel at first and then, I don't know, I hadn't thought about it.”

“An hotel is no place for a young lady, nor is it quite the thing for you to go at all; but as you have made up your mind, perhaps you could not do better than to go to Mrs Garlick's. I suppose, Phil, your mother will not object to accommodate Miss McAlpin?”

“No, to be sure not; and I will run down to see you, Miss McAlpin, and keep you alive. I have not been in Melbourne this twelvemonth. Now don't fret. I'll pay poor Lindsey a visit tomorrow; and we'll manage to get him out of limbo, and no fear.”

Miss McAlpin expressed her thanks to the young man for his sympathy, and turning to Silverton, said he ought not to stay any longer, as it was a long way back to Mount Alpin.

“I shall stay in town tonight on purpose to see you off in the morning. Mr Garlick will give me a shakedown, won't you, Phil?” said Silverton.

Mr Garlick readily assented; and Miss McAlpin, remarking the feverish appearance of her hostess, suggested that all should retire.

Mr Garlick's conscience began to reproach him with his inconsiderate treatment of his patient, whom he now desired to keep quiet, adding, “A cooling draught will be more in your line than sparkling moselle, Mrs R., so I will go and brew one and bring it in a jiffy.”

Mrs Roberts was left to obtain all the repose that a swollen ankle and the idea of that kerchief under her pillow could afford, and her guests took leave of her for the night.

The Worshipful Order of the Freemasons was–

Being uninitiated, we cannot say what they were doing; but as they called themselves
brethren,
perhaps they were
fraternising.
Nevertheless the popping of corks was heard at intervals, and songs and speeches still succeeded each other, and at length the festivity became a thing of the past.

At half-past three a.m., the coach was heard rattling into the yard: groom and ostler came yawning to their duties; the horses were brought from the stable; and the passengers – some of whom (to use the expression of Mr Garlick) looked
deuced seedy
– roused from their beds.

The landlord himself had risen to do honour to Miss McAlpin, and, as he assisted her into the vehicle, bade her be of good cheer, for Mr Lindsey's friends would help him out of
that fix
.

Mr Silverton pressed Flora's hand to his lips, saying he would devote all his energies to her cause; and Mr Philip Garlick told her she was a brick! The driver jumped on his box, the horses plunged and kicked, and the coach dashed into the street in a real go-a-head Yankee fashion.

Amongst Miss McAlpin's fellow passengers was an elderly gentleman, with whom she had been acquainted some time. He was very attentive to her on the road, pointing out everything worthy of remark, bringing her oranges and coffee, and what was more cheering than all, telling her that he would do all in his power for poor Lindsey. The other passengers slept the greater part of the way; a fact that some of them announced most audibly. The journey was long; the weather hot, and the road dusty; but the coach was at length exchanged for a railway carriage, which in due time deposited its freight at the Melbourne terminus.

Miss McAlpin was received with considerable amount of
impressment
by Mrs Garlick and her daughters, who had previously been slightly known to her, and though there was little sympathy between her tastes and theirs, that was a matter of little consequence. What was now of consequence to Flora but the safety and deliverance of Herbert.

The motive of Miss McAlpin's visit was at once explained by herself. It had previously been so, she was informed, by Mr Silverton, in a letter just received. Flora thought his version slightly different from her own, but this might be
in the telling
– Mrs Garlick being in the habit of employing very long words, fuller of sound than meaning.

When the young ladies understood that their visitor was engaged to Mr Lindsey, they seemed to regard her more favourably, not so much from the frankness of her avowal, as from the fact that, if she married Mr Lindsey, she could not conveniently marry Mr Silverton also. It has been said that frankness is a quality never seen in the vulgar, and
vulgar
the Misses Garlick were; not on account of red faces or extreme coarseness, but as being stamped with that type of the half-educated – affectation.