Bessie sniffed, with her nose in the air, as she followed her mistress down the stairs. Tell Mr. Harding? Tell the man who was, in Bessie's mind, the person solely responsible for the indignity placed upon her and Mrs. Eustace of being locked in their own rooms by Constable Brennan! All the message he would ever receive through her would do him good, she told herself.

In the office Wallace heard the buggy drive away and caught a glimpse of it as it pa.s.sed the door. Mrs. Eustace was sitting beside Gale, looking up at him and smiling.

The sound of another vehicle driving up to the door interrupted him. He looked up from his work as Mrs. Burke came into the office.

"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," she exclaimed, "I've looked in as I was pa.s.sing, to inquire what is the latest news about the scoundrels. Have they got them yet? Is there any word of my papers?"

"Have you not heard? Has no one----"

"Heard? Heard what? Heavens about us, man, you're not going to tell me my papers have been destroyed?"

"Oh, no, I'm not going to tell you that, Mrs. Burke. As the news is all over the place, I fancied you must have heard it also. I forgot you were away in the bush. Taloona was stuck up last night and burnt to the ground; old Mr. Dudgeon was shot and is lying dangerously ill, while Mr. Durham had his skull fractured and is at death's door."

Mrs. Burke reeled.

"Oh, my G.o.d!" she gasped.

Before Wallace could reach her she lurched heavily forward and fell, striking her face against the edge of the counter.

Rushing to the door leading to the house, Wallace called to Bessie.

"Come quickly," he cried, "Mrs. Burke has fainted."

He was raising her from the floor as Bessie came.

"Help me to get her into the dining-room," he exclaimed. "What a silly woman! I'm afraid she has hurt her face rather badly. She struck it against the counter."

Bessie lent a somewhat unwilling aid. She disliked Mrs. Burke as cordially as she disliked Wallace, but she helped to support the semi-conscious woman, and undertook to revive her as soon as they had placed her on the sofa.

Wallace returned to the office, leaving the two together. Presently Mrs.

Burke came back, pale and agitated, and with a p.r.o.nounced discolouration on her face where it had come in contact with the counter.

"I must apologise, Mr. Wallace," she began, as soon as she entered the office. "Sure it's only us poor weak women who know the cruel pain of an unexpected blow. You'll not believe me, but when I heard the terrible news, it just turned my heart to stone, it did. Poor Mr.

Durham! A fine, brave, clever gentleman if ever there was one, Mr.

Wallace, and to think of him with all his brains scattered. It's no wonder I fainted."

"But I did not tell you that, Mrs. Burke. I said his skull was fractured, and that he is at death's door."

"Well, isn't that what I was saying?"

"No. I did not say his brains were knocked out. As a matter of fact, they are all in his head where I hope they will always remain, so that he can complete his task of catching your friends who were so considerate as to carry off your papers."

"My friends, do you call them, Mr. Wallace? Sure I'd teach them a new form of friendship if I had my hands on them for a few minutes. But tell me now, what's being done with those poor wounded creatures? The girl told me the old man had had his leg blown off. Well, well! He won't refuse a chair next time he comes to see you, I'll wager. Or maybe he'll have his twenty-five thousand sovereigns made into a special wooden leg to take the place of the other live one he's lost."

"His leg was not blown off--he was shot."

"It's all the same. He won't be able to walk about any more, and sure that's bad enough for any man to have to put up with, isn't it, Mr.

Wallace? How would you like to have it happen to you now? Having to go about on a wooden stump or just sit about in the same place from morning to night and never a chance of stretching a leg or crossing the road."

"But it's not that at all, Mrs. Burke," Wallace exclaimed impatiently.

"What I said was----"

"Oh, I know, I know," she interrupted. "Well now, don't you think it a terrible thing for them to be lying out there without a single woman's hand to soothe them in their agony? Only a doctor to look after them and maybe a bushman or so to boil a billy and make some tea between whiles.

It's more than I can bear to think of, Mr. Wallace."

"You don't feel faint again, do you?" he asked.

"Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Wallace. Bessie was very good to me. She would be better out there helping to relieve those poor wounded creatures instead of idling away her time here, I think; but still, she does her best, poor thing, such as it is. But do you know what I thought of doing? As soon as I heard the news I said to myself, there was only one thing I could do unless I were just a mere bloodless image of a woman.

I'm going to drive straight away now to Taloona and soothe the pain of those poor unfortunates. It's the sound of a woman's voice that is cheering to a lonely man when he's in pain, Mr. Wallace."

"Is it?" Wallace said curtly. "I hope you are right, Mrs. Burke, for you see Mrs. Eustace is there already."

"Mrs. Eustace! Out at Taloona? Mr. Wallace, it's enough to bring down the wrath of Heaven to think of that woman--that--well, I'll not say it; but there's her husband robbing me of my papers and the bank of its money and maybe robbing and murdering that poor old gentleman as well, and she--she of all women on the face of the earth--nursing his victims back for him to slay a second time. Sure, I'd--oh, I'd--I don't know what I wouldn't do, Mr. Wallace, to a woman like that."

"It will be an interesting meeting between you," Wallace observed drily.

"I am sorry I cannot come to see it."

"But it's not the old gentleman she's after, Mr. Wallace. I suppose they robbed him of his gold?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Burke."

"Oh, you may be sure they did. So there's no more to be had out of him; but what would it be worth to that villain of a husband of hers if Sub-Inspector Durham were below ground? The only chance I have of ever seeing my papers again, Mr. Wallace, is with him. I'll go and drive him out to Waroona Downs and nurse him myself. I'll not let it be said that Nora Burke forgot a friend in his hour of need."

"I am afraid the doctor will not let him be moved. I suggested bringing them in here, but Mr. Gale tells me the doctor said it would be fatal to move either at present."

"Then I'll stay and nurse him there. Sure it's that woman I'll watch.

I'll go away at once."

He did not detain her. He did not even suggest she was going on a useless journey. But he sighed deeply as she left the office.

"Little wonder she is a widow," he murmured to himself. "I wonder how long the late Mr. Burke managed to survive it? I hope they keep her at Taloona for a month."

But she did not reach there that day.

On the way she met Gale returning.

"And what's the news of the poor injured creatures?" she cried as she reined in.

Gale shook his head.

"You were not thinking of going out there, were you?" he asked.

"I'm going out to do what I can to soothe the suffering of the unfortunates," she answered. "Mr. Wallace was telling me. What a frightful thing to happen to them, Mr. Gale. Sure the awful news was too much for me to bear, and I just fell like one dead at the sound of it.

You'll see the mark on my face. They tell me I fell against the counter in the bank and might have killed myself entirely with the terrible smash I came against the wretched sharp edge, only that I struck it with my face instead of the back of my head, though it's little thanks to the bank, seeing the way they made the clumsy thing."

"It's no use your going out to Taloona," Gale exclaimed. "No one is allowed near the huts where they are. The doctor and Mrs. Eustace are the only persons allowed to see the patients."

"And by what right is that woman there?"