Sheilah McLeod: A Heroine of the Back Blocks

'But, Sheilah, I am not as innocent as you think. No, no! Do not look so scared. I did not kill the man, but I told you a lie when I said that I knew nothing of his death. I did know something about it, for I saw him murdered – but I could not say so, or I must have betrayed another man. I had sworn to Pete that I would not reveal what I had seen. So my lips were tied.'

'My own dear husband,' she said, looking up into my face, and then led the way towards the sitting-room, 'I have never thought you guilty. But come in here now – I must not let you be seen. Your escape is known to the police, and they were here looking for you only this afternoon.'

'Where is your father, Sheilah?'

'He has gone up to the township to attend a meeting of the Presbyterian Church. He may be back at any moment. First you must change your clothes. Go in there,' and as she spoke she opened the door of her own bedroom. 'You will find a suit hanging in the cupboard. While you are doing that, I will prepare a meal for you.'

I did not stop to ask how she had come to prepare for me in this way, but went into the room and changed my things as I was told to do. That done, and having folded the other hateful garments up and hidden them on the top of the cupboard, I rejoined her in the sitting-room. By this time she had a meal spread on the table for me, but I did not want to eat until I had told her the whole history of my trouble from beginning to end, without keeping anything back.

'And now, Sheilah,' I said, in conclusion of my narrative, 'Whispering Pete is dead. And what is worse, he died without exonerating me. Therefore, if I am caught, I shall have to go back to gaol again and serve my sentence to the bitter end.'

'But you must not be caught. I have taken steps to ensure your safety. As soon as you have eaten your meal you must start again. I have a saddle-horse and pack-horse ready in the stable – they have been there every night since you left here. You must take them, cross the border near Engonia, and set off by a roundabout route marked on this map for Newcastle – arriving there, you will go to this address (here she gave me a slip of paper which I deposited in my pocket) and interview the captain of the ship named upon it. I have got a friend whom I can trust implicitly to arrange it all. The captain will give you a passage to Valparaiso, and three hundred pounds when you land there. You can either settle in Chili or the South Sea Islands as you think best. In either case, when a year has elapsed, if you will let me know where you are I will join you. In the meantime, I am going to set to work to find this One-eyed Doctor, Finnan, and to prove your innocence.'

'Sheilah!' I cried, 'what can I say to you?'

'Say nothing, Jim, but do as I tell you. Remember your wife believes in you, whatever the world may say. So be brave and cautious for my sake.'

'And, Sheilah, you forgive me for that lie I told you? Oh! my darling, what misery my foolish obstinacy has brought upon us all – my father included.'

'But it will all end well yet, Jim; only you must do exactly as I tell you!'

At that moment my ear caught the sound of a footstep on the path. Sheilah heard it as soon as I did, and cried, —

'Jim, somebody is coming; you must hide. In here at once!'

She led the way to her own room, and made me go inside. A moment later I heard someone enter the room I had just quitted.

'Colin,' cried Sheilah, trying to speak in her natural voice, 'what on earth brings you down here at this time of night?'

'I have come to warn you, Sheilah,' said her cousin, 'that we have received information that your husband is on his way here. You know, don't you, that if he is discovered he will be at once arrested and taken back?'

'You would not arrest him, Colin, would you?' Sheilah asked, in agonised tones. 'Surely you could not be so cruel to me!'

Colin had evidently been studying her face.

'I'm afraid I should fail in my duty for your sake, Sheilah,' he said, after a moment's pause. 'But, my cousin, you know more than you are telling me. Sheilah! I see it all; Jim is here!'

Sheilah must have felt that she could trust him, for she answered, —

'You are right. He is here. Colin, you will not act against him?'

'Have I not told you I shall not! But remember, Sheilah, this will cost me my position. I shall send in my resignation to-morrow.'

At this I walked out, and Colin stared; but did not say that he was glad to see me.

'Jim,' my wife said, 'everything is prepared; you must go. Colin is your friend, you can trust him. Now come. Every moment you are here increases your danger.'

I went over to Colin McLeod and looked him in the face.

'McLeod,' I said, 'you are acting the part of a brave and true man. God bless you for it. Tell me one thing, do you believe me guilty of the charge upon which I was convicted?'

'No! I do not,' he answered; 'if I did I should not be helping you now.'

'Then I'll ask you to shake hands with me.'

We shook hands; and, after that, without another word, I followed Sheilah into the darkness. As she had said, two horses stood saddled and ready in the stockyard. I led them out, and, having done so, took Sheilah in my arms.

'My wife,' I said, 'my Sheilah, what a wonderful and beautiful faith is yours! Who else would have believed in me as you have done, through good and ill report!'

'It is because I love you so, and because I know you better than you know yourself that I believe in you as I do,' she answered. 'Now, Jim, darling, good-bye. Let me know what happens to you. Write, not only before you leave Australia, but when you arrive in Chili; and, for my sake, be careful. May the good God be with you and keep you safe for me. Good-bye – oh, Jim, Jim, good-bye.'

I kissed her sweet, upturned face again and again, and then, tearing myself away from her, passed through the slip panels, which she had let down for me, and with a last wave of my hand rode off into the dark night, feeling that I had left what was more than my life behind me.

Passing through old McLeod's paddock I made my way carefully along the creek side to the old ford – the place where I had fought Colin McLeod one memorable evening, and where I had spent that awful night after I had lied to Sheilah about Jarman's death and she had believed and kissed me before them all. Before I went down the steep bank to the water's edge I checked my horse and looked back across the paddocks to where I could just distinguish the outline of the house that sheltered the woman I loved. How much had happened and how terrible had been my life since I had last stood in this place and had gazed in the same direction. Then, turning my eyes across the stream, I made out the house I had built with such pride and loving care; the home to which I was to have brought my wife after the wedding that had ended so disastrously. There it stood, dark and forlorn, the very picture of loneliness, a grave of disappointed hopes if ever there was one. The garden was straggling and overgrown, the building itself already cried aloud for attention. Almost unconscious of my actions, I crossed the ford and rode up to within a few yards of it, thinking of the happy days I had spent in building it, of the good resolutions I had then formed, and the way in which I had afterwards failed in the trust reposed in me. In the darkness and silence of the night the place seemed haunted with phantoms of the past. I almost fancied I could see my father in one corner, and Pete from another, watching me, the outlaw, as I sat in my saddle under the big Gum Tree, gazing at what might once have been the very centre of all that could have made life beautiful. At last, saddened almost to the verge of despair, I urged my horse forward and quitted the spot, heaving a heavy sigh as I did so for auld lang syne, and all the happiness that might have been my portion had I only shunned Pete at the commencement of our acquaintance instead of trusting him and believing in him against my better judgment. Now, however, that it was all over and done with, there was nothing for it but for me to eat my bread of sorrow and drink my water of affliction alone. In the words of the old saying, I had made my bed, and now it was my portion to lie upon it.

Leaving the house, I made my way by a path, which I had good reason to know as well as any man living, in the direction of my old home. Like the other house it was quite dark. Not a light shone from the windows, though instinctively I turned towards those of the dining-room where my father had been wont to sit, half expecting to see one there. For my own part I did not know whether there was anyone still living in the house. My father was dead, I was cut off from the society of the living, Betty might be dead, too, for all I knew to the contrary. Repressing a groan, I turned my horse's head and set off through the scrub in the direction Sheilah had advised me to follow.

By the time the sun rose next morning I had put upwards of thirty miles between myself and Barranda township. I had travelled as quickly as possible in order that I might have more time to lay by later on, for I was determined to push on at night and to camp during the day. I had two reasons for this decision. In the first place, I wanted to give my beard a chance of growing, in order that my appearance might be altered as much as possible, and in the second, because I knew that in a district where I was so well known the chances would be a thousand to one that someone would recognise me in the daylight, and thus lead up to my recapture. For the first two or three days, however, complete success crowned my efforts. I was fortunate enough to be able to make my way across country each night without attracting attention. But a serious fright was saving up for me.

On the third day after I had said good-bye to Sheilah and Barranda township, I found myself leaving the Mallee scrub and entering more open country. Here I did not like to attract attention by camping during the day. Accordingly I made up my mind to risk meeting anyone who might know me, and, saddling my horse, started down the track. It was a warm morning, and seeing the amount of work that still lay before him, I did not push my horse too hard. I therefore jogged easily along, smoking my pipe, and thinking of Sheilah, my pretty wife, and of the old life I had left behind me. For upwards of an hour I had been following a faint track, which was now fast developing into a well-defined road. A little later I heard behind me the sound of a couple of horses coming along at a slow, swinging canter. For the reason that I was only travelling at a walk they soon caught me up, when I discovered that the new-comer was a smart, active, fresh-complexioned young fellow, obviously an Englishman, mounted on a neat bay and leading a clever-looking grey pack-horse beside him.

'Good morning,' he said, as he drew up alongside me. 'Pretty warm, ain't it? Travelling far?'

In case I should be questioned I had already decided upon the sort of answer I would return.

'I'm thinking of turning off after the next township,' I said, 'and following the river down till I strike the track for Bourke.' Then reflecting that if he were an experienced bushman he would find something wrong in this, I hastened to add, 'I should have gone in higher up, I know, and followed the coach road along the foot of the Ranges, but they say the country thereabouts is all burnt up and travelling is next door to an impossibility.'

'That is so,' he answered. 'I've come over the border myself, and had a pretty rough time of it out towards the Warrego. Are you droving?'

'Going down for a mob to take out to the Diamintina,' I answered. 'One of Blake & Furley's of Callington Plains.'

He shook his head.

'I don't know them,' he said. 'I'm next door to a new chum myself; been out on the Balloo best part of three years. Now, however, I'm going to take a jolly good holiday.'

For an hour or so we jogged on side by side, talking of horses, cattle, sheep, and half a hundred other things. Then the township came into view, and nothing would please my new friend but we must pull up at the grog shanty and take a drink. I would have made an excuse and have said good-bye to him, but he would not hear of such a thing. Accordingly, very loth, but unable to persist in my refusal for fear of exciting his suspicions, I consented and we pulled up at the Drover's Arms, as the shanty was called, and having made our horses fast to the rail outside, went in to the bar. There were two or three other men of the usual bar loafer stamp present at the time, and according to bush custom they were invited to join us in our refreshment. To my horror, as we were satisfying their curiosity as to whence we had come and whither we were going, and what the track was like further up, a police trooper entered and called for a nobbler of whiskey.

'How are you, Sergeant?' asked one of the loafers with well simulated interest. 'Any news to-day of the man you're looking for?'

The Sergeant shook his head.

'Not yet,' he answered; 'but we'll nab him before long, never fear.'

'Who are you looking for?' inquired my companion, with sudden interest.

'For Jim Heggarstone,' replied the Sergeant; 'the man who got a lifer for being mixed up with Whispering Pete in that murder case out Barranda way in Queensland. He escaped on his way to gaol, and we were told to look out for him in this direction, as it is supposed he is making south.'

My heart seemed to stand still for a moment as he turned round and ran his eye over me. I felt that I must make some remark, but what to say that would avert suspicion I could not for the very life of me think. At last I found my voice.

'What is he like – this, what's his name – Heggarfield?' I inquired, as coolly as I knew how.

The Sergeant glanced at me again as he answered, —

'Oh, a decent-sized sort of fellow. About your height, or a little taller, I should say.'

To my intense relief I was not permitted to monopolize the great man's attention for very long, as one of the loafers was desirous of learning what punishment the criminal would be likely to receive when he was captured and taken back to gaol.

'A year in irons, most likely,' I heard the Sergeant answer as I paid for the drinks and, lighting my pipe, sauntered out into the verandah, feeling ready to drop in my anxiety to be out of the township once more. As soon as my companion was ready, which seemed to me an eternity, we mounted our horses, and waving our adieux to the loafers in the bar, set off down the street, and in something less than a quarter-of-an-hour were clear of the houses and bidding each other good-bye at the spot where the three cross roads branched off. Two days later I joined a mob of fat cattle en route to Bourke, with whom I kept company until I reached the town. Then having sold my horse, saddle and bridle to the drover in charge, I found the railway station, purchased a ticket for Sydney, and placing myself on board the train was next day landed safe and sound in the capital. To make my way thence to Newcastle was a matter of small difficulty.

Once there, I hastened to seek out the address written on the paper Sheilah had given me. It was a nice house in a fashionable locality, and when I inquired for Captain Blake of the Amber Crown steamer, and gave my name as George Brown, I was told by the maid servant to walk in.

It appeared that old McLeod had once done a signal service for my new friend, which the latter had never forgotten. For this reason he was only too glad to have an opportunity of repaying his benefactor. Whether or not he knew who I was I cannot say; at any rate he said nothing to me on the subject. When I said good-bye to him I went straight off and boarded the Amber Crown, then lying in the harbour. The following morning I wrote to Sheilah, and during the afternoon we weighed anchor; by nightfall Australia lay beneath the horizon behind us. I was free!!!

Of the voyage across the Pacific there is nothing to tell. On arrival at Valparaiso I had an interview with Captain Blake in his private cabin.

'Mr Brown,' said he, for, as I have said, that was the name I was travelling under, 'having landed you here, I have carried out half of my contract. Now I must fulfil the other half.'

As he spoke he handed me a canvas bag containing the three hundred pounds in English gold Sheilah had told me to expect. I thanked him for his kindness to me during the voyage, signed the receipt for Mr McLeod, and then went ashore. The same night I sailed aboard an island schooner bound for Tahiti, the capital of the Friendly Group, where I entered the employ of the firm for whom I am now trading here on Vakalavi.

Now, my friends, you know my curious story, and there remain but three things to tell. The One-eyed Doctor was discovered at last by Sheilah, after a tedious hunt, dying of consumption in a Melbourne slum. She nursed him, and in a moment of gratitude, with the hand of death clutching at his throat, he gave her, in the presence of a magistrate, a full and complete confession of the murder of Jarman by Whispering Pete, stating that, beyond burying the body, I had nothing whatsoever to do with it. So my innocence was established, and I was cleared before the whole world. That is the first thing. Now for the next. Your schooner to-day brought me a letter from my wife, in which she tells me that she is coming to join me by the next boat. God bless her! Her father, who is tired of Barranda, is accompanying her. That is the second! The third is that by my father's death, so the lawyers and bankers tell me, I am a rich man. This being so, I shall send in my resignation to the firm, move across to Apia, and once there, set about building a big house on the mountain side overlooking the bay. In that lovely spot, for I shall never go back to Australia now, I shall hope to begin a new life, with Sheilah for my sweet companion. There is one point, doubtless, upon which you will agree with me, and that is, try how I will, I shall never be able to make up to her for her confidence and love during the bitterest period of my life. But I'll try, God helping me, I'll try! – you may be sure of that.

And now you know why I say that I believe in and reverence the name of woman. God bless the sex, and, above all, the girl, now my wife, who was once Sheilah McLeod!