"Where were you going to send them?"

"There are two single-bunk huts at the men's quarters. I was going to have them taken there on that door until you came."

"We will take them there at once."

Under his directions the two were lifted and carried away to the huts and made as comfortable as was possible in the rough timber bunks. With Mrs. Eustace and Harding to a.s.sist him, he found and removed the bullet from the old man's leg and quickly operated on Durham.

"I don't know what they would say in some of the swagger hospitals, if they were asked to trepan a man's skull under these conditions," he said as the operation was finished. "But he'll pull through, and thank you, as the old man will when he knows, for saving his life. Aren't you Mrs.

Eustace?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I hardly had time to notice who you were before. You're a brave woman.

For your sake I hope your husband gets away."

The blood surged to her face, and then left it pallid. The shadow of her sorrow had been forgotten during the strenuous moments she had gone through; the tactless remark brought it back upon her with cruel emphasis. She turned aside and slipped through the door at the back of the hut while the doctor, oblivious to his blunder, went out at the other.

Harding was about to follow her, when one of the troopers appeared at the door through which the doctor had gone. He held a letter in his hand.

"I found this where the lady knelt when she tied up the sub-inspector's head--I fancy it's either hers or yours."

On the flap of the envelope Harding saw the bank's impress.

"It probably is hers," he answered as he took it. "I will give it to her at once."

There was no sign of her as he pa.s.sed out of the little door at the back of the hut and, believing she had gone round to the other, he turned to go back when, in a limp and dishevelled heap, he saw her lying on the ground against the wall of the hut.

Her upturned face was white and drawn as he stooped over her.

"Jess!" he whispered. "Jess! Are you ill?"

She made no response, and he placed his arms gently round her and lifted her till she lay in his clasp, her head drooped on his shoulder.

The movement revived her sufficiently for her to know what was happening.

A long-drawn sigh escaped her lips and she essayed to stand alone.

"No, Jess, no. Lean on me. You must get back home and rest. You have overdone it," he whispered.

"Fred! You!"

The arms that had hung lifeless wreathed round his neck, the head that had dropped on his shoulder nestled close and the white face upturned.

"Oh, take me away, Fred, take me away from this horror--anywhere, anywhere, so that I may be with you."

"Hush, Jess, hush. You must not talk like that," he whispered, the strength of the grip with which he held her and the soft tremor of his voice giving her the lie to his words.

"Darling, I must," she answered. "Give me freedom from the misery that man has brought into my life. Oh, you do not know what it has been and is still. You heard what the doctor said."

She shuddered as she recalled the words.

"The tactless fool," he muttered, resentment rising against the man who had not hesitated to add another twelve hours' work to an already arduous day when the call of suffering reached him.

"No, he only said what others think. I know, Fred. I can feel it. Mr.

Gale was the same. They all are."

"You must not think that--you must not," he said. "And you must not stay in Waroona. You must go away."

Her arms held tighter.

"I will never go, never, while you remain. Don't despise me, Fred, don't think ill of me. I know what I am saying. I am on the edge of a precipice. If I go over, I go down, down, down, an outcast, and a--a----"

"Don't," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "Don't talk like that."

"Who would care?" she added bitterly, "even if I did?"

It was no longer merely support that his encircling arms gave her as they strained her to him.

"It would break my heart," he whispered simply. "I am one who would care."

Unconsciously he bent his head, unconsciously she raised hers, until their lips met, and in one pa.s.sionate embrace the intervening years since they had been heart to heart before pa.s.sed as a dream, and only did they know that despite all the barriers which had been raised between them they were bound by a tie beyond the reach of custom, circ.u.mstance, or force.

With that knowledge uplifting and upholding them, they drew apart.

"You must go and rest now, Jess. You have need of all your strength to face what lies before you," he said gently.

"I don't mind what it is--now," she answered.

"Then I will go and ask Gale to drive you back. I will give you all the news when I return in the morning."

"Are you staying?" Gale exclaimed directly he saw him. "I've harnessed up, so if you and Mrs. Eustace----"

"I'm staying, but she will come back with you--the experience has been rather trying for her."

"Trying?" Gale exclaimed. "She's the n.o.blest woman I've ever met. I don't care what's the truth about the bank affair, but there's not a man in Waroona who won't reverence that woman when he hears what she has done to-night."

"I'll tell her you are ready," Harding answered.

"Where is she? Down at the huts? I'll drive down for her."

She was standing talking to the doctor when Harding returned.

"I'm more anxious about the old man," the doctor was saying as Harding came up. "He'll want very careful nursing, so if you could undertake it, you'll lift a weight off my shoulders."

"I will be ready to come out to-morrow if you want me," she answered.

"Send word by Mr. Harding when he comes in--he is going to stay here to-night. You will bring me word, won't you?" she added, turning to Harding. "Is Mr. Gale driving back?"

"He is coming now to pick you up--here he is," Harding replied as Gale's buggy and pair swung into sight.