Robbery Under Arms Rolf Boldrewood (best way to read an ebook .TXT) 📖

her to leave our wild lives behind she was ready to join us and follow me all over the world. Over and over again she tried to persuade me to get away like Jim, and said how happy he was now, and how much better it was than stopping where we were, and running terrible risks every day and every hour. It was the old story over again; but I felt better for it, and really meant to try and cut loose from all this cross work. We hadn’t too much time. Aileen was fetched back to her seat, and then Starlight went off to his friends at the other end of the room, and was chaffed for flirting with a regular currency lass by one of the Dawsons.

“I admire his taste,” says the Commissioner. “I really think she’s the prettiest girl in the room if she was well dressed and had a little more animation. I wonder who she is? What’s her name, Lascelles? I suppose you know all about her by this time.”

“Her name is Martin, or Marston, or some such name,” answered Starlight, quite cool and pleasant. “Deuced nice, sensible girl, painfully quiet, though. Wouldn’t dance, though, at all, and talked very little.”

“By Jove! I know who she is,” says one of the young chaps. “That’s Aileen Marston, sister to Dick and Jim. No wonder she isn’t over lively. Why, she has two brothers bushrangers, regular out-and-outers. There’s a thousand on each of their heads.”

“Good gad!” says Starlight, “you don’t say so! Poor girl! What a most extraordinary country! You meet with surpwises every day, don’t you?”

“It’s a pity Sir Ferdinand isn’t here,” said the Commissioner. “I believe she’s an acquaintance of his. I’ve always heard she was a splendid girl, though, poor thing, frets to death about her family. I think you seem to have cheered her up, though, Lascelles. She doesn’t look half so miserable as she did an hour ago.”

“Naturally, my dear fellow,” says Starlight, pulling his moustache; “even in this savage country⁠—beg your pardon⁠—one’s old form seems to be appreciated. Pardon me, I must regain my partner; I am engaged for this dance.”

“You seem disposed to make the most of your opportunities,” says the Commissioner. “Dawson, you’ll have to look after your friend. Who’s the enslaver now?”

“I didn’t quite catch her name,” says Starlight lazily; “but it’s that tall girl near the pillar, with the pale face and dark eyes.”

“You’re not a bad judge for a new chum,” says one of the goldfield subs. “Why, that’s Maddie Barnes. I think she’s the pick of all the down-the-river girls, and the best dancer here, out-and-out. Her sister’s to be married tomorrow, and we’re all going to see her turned off.”

“Really, now?” says Starlight, putting up his eyeglass. “I begin to think I must write a book. I’m falling upon adventures hourly. Oh, the ‘Morgen-blatter.’ What a treat! Can she valse, do you think?”

“You try her,” says the young fellow. “She’s a regular stunner.”

It was a fine, large room, and the band, mostly Germans, struck up some outlandish queer sort of tune that I’d never heard anything like before; whatever it was it seemed to suit most of the dancing people, for the floor was pretty soon full up, and everybody twisting round and round as if they were never going to stop. But, to my mind, there was not a couple there that was a patch on Maddie and Starlight. He seemed to move round twice as light and easy as anyone else; he looked somehow different from all the others. As for Maddie, wherever she picked it up she went like a bird, with a free, springy sort of sliding step, and all in time to the music, anybody could see. After a bit some of the people sat down, and I could hear them passing their remarks and admiring both of ’em till the music stopped. I couldn’t make out whether Aileen altogether liked it or not; anyhow she didn’t say anything.

About an hour afterwards the camp party left the room, and took Starlight with them. Someone said there was a little loo and hazard at the Commissioner’s rooms. Cyrus Williams was not in a hurry to go home, or his young wife either, so I stayed and walked about with the two girls, and we had ever so much talk together, and enjoyed ourselves for once in a quiet way. A good crowd was sure to be at Bella Barnes’s wedding next day. It was fixed for two o’clock, so as not to interfere with the races. The big handicap was to be run at three, so we should be able to be at the church when Bella was turned off, and see Rainbow go for the great race of the day afterwards. When that was run we intended to clear. It would be time for us to go then. Things were middling straight, but it mightn’t last.

Next day was the great excitement of the meeting. The “big money” was all in the handicap, and there was a big field, with two or three cracks up from Sydney, and a very good local horse that all the diggers were sweet on. It was an open race, and every man that had a note or a fiver laid it out on one horse or another.

Rainbow had been entered in proper time and all regular by old Jacob, under the name of Darkie, which suited in all ways. He was a dark horse, sure enough; dark in colour, and dark enough as to his performances⁠—nobody knew much about them. We weren’t going to enter him in his right name, of course.

Old Jacob was a queer old fellow in all his ways and notions, so we couldn’t stable him in any of the stables in Turon, for fear of his being “got at,” or something. So when I wanted to see him the day before, the old fellow grinned, and took me away about