Sheilah McLeod: A Heroine of the Back Blocks

A few days later I met him in the township. Directly he saw me he stopped his horse and entered into conversation with me.

'I have been wondering when I should see you again,' he said. 'I was beginning to be afraid you had forgotten that such a person existed.'

'I have been wanting to come up and see you,' I answered, 'but I did not like to thrust myself upon you. You might have been busy.'

'You need never be afraid of that,' he answered, with his usual queer smile. No – please come up whenever you can. I shall always be glad to see you. What do you say to Thursday evening at eight o'clock?'

I answered that I should be very glad to come, and then we separated, and I rode on to see Sheilah.

Thursday evening came, and as soon as I had my supper, I set off across the creek to the old house on the hill. It had struck eight by the time I reached it, and to my surprise I heard the sound of voices coming from the sitting-room. I knocked at the door, and a moment later it was opened by my host himself, who shook me warmly by the hand and invited me to enter. Thereupon I passed into the lamp-lit room to discover two young men of the township, Pat Doolan and James Mountain, installed there. They were making themselves prodigiously at home, as if they had been there many times before. Which I believe they had.

'I need not introduce you, I suppose?' said my host, looking round. 'You are probably well acquainted with these gentlemen.'

As I had known them all my life, played with them as children, and met them almost every day since, it may be supposed that I was.

We sat down and a general conversation ensued. After a while our host played and sang to us; drinks were served, and later on somebody – I really forget who – suggested a game of cards. The pasteboards were accordingly produced, and for the first time in my life I played for money. When, two hours later, we rose from the table, I was the winner of twenty pounds, while Pete had lost nearly fifty. I went home as happy as a man could well be, with the world in my watch pocket, not because I had won the money, but because I had been successful in something I had undertaken. How often that particular phase of vanity proves our undoing. Two evenings later I returned and won again, yet another evening, and still with the same result. Then the change came, my luck broke. I followed it up, but still lost. After that the sum I had won melted away like snow before the mid-day sun, till, on the fifth evening, I rose from the table having lost all I had previously won and fifteen pounds into the bargain. The next night I played again, hoping to retrieve my fortune, but ill-luck still pursued me, and I lost ten pounds more. This time it was much worse, for I had not enough capital by twenty pounds to meet my liabilities. I rose from the table like many another poor fool, bitterly cursing the hour I had first touched a card. The others had gone home, and when I prepared to follow them, Pete, to whom I owed the money, accompanied me into the verandah.

'I'm sorry you've had such bad luck lately,' he said quietly. 'But you mustn't let the memory of the small sum you owe me trouble you. I'm in no hurry for it. Fortune's bound to smile on you again before very long, and then you can settle with me at your convenience.'

'To tell the honest truth,' I blurted out, feeling myself growing hot all over, 'I can't pay. I ought not to have played at all.'

'Oh, don't say that,' he answered. 'Remember we only do it for amusement. If you let your losses worry you I shall be more than miserable. No! come up next Monday evening, and let us see what will happen then.'

Monday night came and I played and won!

I paid Pete, and then, because I was a coward and afraid to stop lest they should laugh at me, began again. Once more I won, then Fortune again began to frown upon me, and I lost. We played every evening after that with varying success. At last the crash came. One evening, after liquidating my liabilities to the other men, I rose from the table owing Whispering Pete a hundred pounds.

Bidding him good-night, I went down the hill in a sort of stupor. How I was to pay him I could not think. I had not a halfpenny in the world, and nothing that I could possibly sell to raise the money. That night, as may be imagined, I did not sleep a wink.

Next morning I asked my father to advance me the amount in question. He inquired my reason, and as I declined to give it, he refused to consider my request.

After that, for more than a week, I kept away from the house on the hill, being too much ashamed to go near it. My life, from being a fairly happy one, now became a burden to me. I carried my miserable secret locked up in my breast by day, and dreamed of it by night.

Then the climax came. One evening a note from Whispering Pete was brought to me by one of his black boys. I took it into the house and read it with my coward heart in my mouth. It ran as follows: —

'Dear Jim, – Have you quite forgotten me? I have been hoping every evening that you would come across for a chat. But you never put in an appearance. I suppose you have been too busy mustering lately to have any time to spare for visiting. If you are likely to be at home to-morrow evening, will you come across to supper at eight? – Yours ever,

'Pete.

'P.S.– By the way, would it be convenient to you to let me have that £100? I am sending down to Sydney, and being a trifle short it would just come in handily for a little speculation I have on hand.'

Telling the boy to inform his master that I would come over and see him first thing in the morning, I returned to my own room and went to bed – but not to sleep.

Next morning I saddled my horse and rode over as I had promised. When I arrived at the house, Whispering Pete was in the stable at the rear examining a fine chestnut horse that had just arrived. As soon as he saw me he looked a little confused I thought, and came out, carefully closing the door behind him. From the stable we passed into the house and to the sitting-room, where Pete bade me be seated.

'I was beginning to fear I had offended you in some way, and that you wished to avoid me,' he began, as he offered me a cigarette.

'So I did,' I answered boldly, 'and it's on account of that wretched money. Pete, I'm in an awful hole. I cannot possibly pay you just yet. To tell you the honest truth, at the present moment I haven't a red cent in the world, and I feel just about the meanest wretch in all Australia.'

He gave his shoulders a peculiar twitch, as was his habit, and then rose to his feet, saying as he did so, —

'And so you've worked yourself into this state about a paltry hundred pounds. Well, if I'd been told it by anybody else I'd not have believed it. Come, come, Jim, old man, if that debt worries you, we'll strike it off the books altogether. Thank God, I can safely say I'm not a money-grubber, and, all things considered, I set a greater value on your society than on twice a hundred pounds. So there that's done with, and you must forget all about it!'

Generous as was his speech I could not help thinking there was something not quite sincere about it. However, he had lifted a great weight off my mind, and I thanked him profusely, at the same time telling him I should still regard myself as in his debt, and that I would repay him on the first possible opportunity.

'Would you really like to pay me?' he said suddenly, as if an idea had struck him. 'Because, if you are desirous of doing so, I think I can find you a way by which you can not only liquidate your debt to me, but recoup yourself for all your losses into the bargain.'

'And what is that?' I asked. 'If it's possible, of course I should like to do it.'

'Well, I'll tell you. It's like this! You know, next month the township races come off, don't you? Well, it's to be the biggest meeting they have ever had, and, seeing that, I have determined to bring up a horse from the South and enter him for the Cup. Now, here's what I propose. I know your reputation as a horseman, and I think with you in the saddle my nag can just about win. I'll pay you a hundred pounds to ride him, and there you are. What do you say?'

I thought for a moment, and then said, —

'I won't take the hundred, but I'll ride the horse for you, if you wish it, with pleasure.'

'Thank you,' he answered. 'I thought I could depend on you.'

Little did I dream to what misery I was condemning myself by so readily consenting to his proposition.

From Whispering Pete's house I went on through the township to see Sheilah. It was a lovely morning, with just a suspicion of a coming thunderstorm in the air. I found her in the yard among her fowls, a pale blue sun-bonnet on her head, and a basket full of eggs upon her arm. She looked incomparably sweet and womanly.

'Why, Jim,' she said, looking up at me as I opened the gate and came into the yard, 'this is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure. I thought you were out mustering in your back country.'

'No, Sheilah,' I replied. 'I had some important business in the township, which detained me. Directly it was completed I thought I'd come over and see you.'

'That was kind of you,' she answered. 'I was wondering when you would come. We don't seem to have seen so much of you lately as we used to do.'

Because there was a considerable amount of truth in what she said, and my conscience pricked me for having forsaken old friends for a new-comer like Whispering Pete, I naturally became indignant at such an accusation being brought against me. Sheilah looked at me in surprise, but for a few moments she said nothing, then, as we left the yard and went up the path towards the house, she put her little hand upon my arm and said softly, —

'Jim, my dear old friend, you've something on your mind that's troubling you. Won't you tell me all about it and let me help you if I can?'

'It's nothing that you can help me in, Sheilah,' I replied. 'I'm down on my luck, that's all; and, because I'm a fool, I've promised to do a thing that I know will make a lot of trouble in the future. However, as it can't be helped, it's no use crying over it, is it?'

'Every use, if it can make you any happier. Jim, you've not been yourself for weeks past. Come, tell me all about it, and let me see if I can advise you. Has it, for instance, anything to do with Whispering Pete?'

I looked at her in surprise.

'What do you know about Whispering Pete?' I asked.

'A good deal more than you think, or I like,' she answered, 'and when I find him making my old playfellow miserable, I am even more his enemy than before.'

'I didn't say that it had anything to do with Whispering Pete,' I retorted, beginning to flare up, according to custom, at the idea of anything being said or hinted against those with whom I was intimate.

'No, Jim, you didn't say so, but I'm certain he is at the bottom of it, whatever it is! Come, won't you tell me, old friend?'

She looked into my face so pleadingly that I could not refuse her; besides, it had always been my custom to confide in Sheilah ever since I was a little wee chap but little bigger than herself, and somehow it seemed to come natural now. What's more, if the truth were known, I think it was just that very idea that had brought me down to see her.

'It's this way, Sheilah,' I stammered, hardly knowing how to begin. 'Like the fool I am, I've been playing cards up at Whispering Pete's for the last month or so, and, well, the long and the short of it is, I've lost more money than I can pay.'

She didn't reproach me, being far too clever for that. She simply put her little hand in mine, and looked rather sorrowfully into my face.

'Well, Jim?' she said.

'Well, to make a long story short, I owe Whispering Pete a hundred pounds. He wrote asking me for the money. I couldn't pay, so I went over and told him straight out that I couldn't.'

'That was brave of you!'

'He received me very nicely and generously, and told me not to bother myself any more about it. Then I found there was something I could do for him in return.'

'And what was that?'

'Why, to ride his horse for the Cup at the township races next month.'

'Oh, Jim – you won't surely do that, will you?'

'Well, you see I've promised, and it's that that's worrying me.'

'Jim, what is the amount you want to pay him off?'

'A hundred pounds, Sheilah.'

'Well, I have more than that saved. Jim, do let me lend it to you, and then you can pay him in full, and you needn't ride in the race. You know, Jim, that nobody among our friends in the township ever goes to them, and you must see for yourself what would be said if you rode.'

'And what business would it be of anybody's pray, if I did? I go my way, they can go theirs.'

'But I don't want people to think badly of you, Jim.'

'If they're fools enough to do so because I ride a good horse in a fair race they'll think anything; and, as far as I'm concerned, they're welcome to their opinions.'

'And you won't let me lend you the money, Jim?'

'No, Sheilah, dear, it's impossible. I couldn't think of such a thing. But I thank you all the same from the bottom of my heart. It's like your goodness to make me such an offer.'

'And you've made up your mind to ride for this man.'

'See for yourself how I am situated. How can I get out of it? He has done me a kindness, and in return he asks me to do him one. If I can't do anything else I can ride, and he is pinning his chance of winning on me. Am I therefore to disappoint him because the old goody-goodies in the township disapprove of horse-racing?'

'Jim, that isn't the right way to look at it.'

'Isn't it? Well, it's the way I've got to look at it anyhow, and, as far as I can see, there's no other. Only, I'll give you one bit of advice, don't let any of the people hereabouts come preaching to me, or they'll find I'm not in the humour for it.'

Sheilah was quiet for a little while. Then she said very sorrowfully, —

'This man's coming into the township will prove to have been the beginning of trouble for all of us. Jim, mark my words; your decision will some day recoil upon those you love best.'

This was not at all what I expected from Sheilah, so like a fool I lost my temper.

'What nonsense you talk,' I cried. 'At any rate, if it does it will do us good. We want a bit of waking up, or I'm mistaken.'

'Oh, Jim, Jim,' she said, 'if only I could persuade you to give this notion up.'

'It's not to be thought of, Sheilah,' I answered, 'so say no more about it. One thing I know, however, and that is, if all the rest turn against me, you will not.'

'I shall never turn against you, Jim. And you know that.'

'Well, then, that's all right. I don't care a scrap about the rest.'

'But does it never strike you, Jim, that in thus following your own inclinations you are being very cruel to those who love you best in the world.'

'Those who love me best in the world,' I repeated mockingly. 'Pray how many may there be of them?'

'More than you seem to think,' she answered reproachfully. 'If only you were not so headstrong and proud, you would soon discover that you have in reality lots of friends – even among those whom you affect to despise. Some day you may find this out. God grant it may not then be too late.'

How true her words were destined to prove you will see for yourself. Surely enough the time was to come, the bitterest time of all my life, when I should see for myself in what estimation I was held by the people of the township. Strange are the ways of Providence, for then it was I discovered that my best friends were not those who had been my companions in prosperity, and whom I had every right to think would stand by me through evil and good report – but the very people whom I had been accustomed to call old fossils and by a hundred other and similar terms of reproach. However, I was not going to give in that Sheilah was right.

'Too late or not too late,' I answered, 'I must go my own way, Sheilah. If it turns out that I'm wrong, I shall have to suffer for my folly. If I'm beaten, you may be sure I sha'n't cry out. I'll take my punishment like a man, never fear. I'll not ask anyone to share my punishment.'

She gave a little sigh.

'No, you're not asking us to share your punishment,' she replied. 'Nevertheless we must do so. Can you not think and see for yourself what it must mean to those who are your friends and have your welfare most at heart, to see you so blindly thrusting your head into the trap that is so cunningly set for you by the arch enemy of all mankind?'

'How do you know it is a trap?' I cried. 'Why will you always make such mountains out of molehills, Sheilah? If, as you say, Pete is my enemy, which, mind you, I do not for a single moment admit, he cannot do me very much harm. I may lose a little money to him at cards, but I shall soon be able to pay him back. I may ride his horse for him at the township races and offend some of the strait-laced goody-goody folk by so doing – but their censure will break no bones, and in a few weeks they will have forgotten it and be much the same to me as ever. It is not as if I were going to continue race riding all my life, because I do it this once. I may never ride another. Indeed, I'll even go so far as to give you my promise to that effect if you wish it.'

'You will make me very happy if you will.'

'Then I'll do so,' I answered. 'From this moment I promise you that, without your permission, I will never ride another horse in a race. There! Are you satisfied now?'

'I am much happier. I thank you, Jim, from the bottom of my heart. For I know you well enough to be sure that if you have once given your word you will stick to it. God bless you.'

'God bless you, Sheilah. And now I must be off. Good-bye.'

'Good-bye.'

I jumped on to my horse, and, waving my hand to her, went back up the track to the township with a strange foreboding in my heart that her prophecy would some day be realised.

CHAPTER IV

THE RACE

Slowly the month rolled by, and every day brought the fatal races nearer, till at last only a week separated us from them. With each departing day a greater nervousness took possession of me. I tried to reason it out, but without success. As far as I could see, I had nothing very vital to fear! I might lose the esteem of the grey heads of the township, it was true, and possibly get into trouble with my father – but beyond those two unpleasantnesses I was unable to see that anything serious could happen to me.

Since giving him my promise I had only once set eyes on Whispering Pete. To tell the truth, I felt a desire to keep out of his way. At the same time, however, I had not the very slightest intention of going back on my promise to ride for him. At last, one morning, I met him riding through the township on a skittish young thoroughbred. As usual he was scrupulously neat in his dress, and, when he stopped to speak to me, his beady black eyes shone down on me like two live coals.

'You're not going to throw me over about that race are you, Jim?' he said, after we had pulled up our horses and saluted each other.

'What should make you think so?' I answered. 'When I give my word I don't go back on it as a general rule.'

'Of course, you don't,' he replied; 'I know that. But I heard yesterday that the folk in the township had been trying to persuade you to withdraw your offer. The time is drawing close now, and I shall have the horse up here to-night. Come over in the evening and have a look at him, and then in the morning, if you're agreeable and have nothing better to do, we might try him against your horse Benbow, who, I take it, is the best animal in the district. What do you say?'

'I'm quite willing,' I answered. 'And where do you intend to do it?'

'Not where all the township can see, you may be sure,' he answered, with one of his peculiar laughs. 'We'll keep this little affair dark. Do you know that bit of flat on the other side of Sugarloaf Hill?'

'Quite well,' I said. 'Who should know it better than I?'

'Very well, then; we'll have our trial spin there.' Then bending towards me he said very softly, 'Jim, my boy, it won't be my fault if we don't make a big haul over this race. There will be a lot of money about, and you've no objection, I suppose?'

'None whatever,' I answered. 'But do you think it's as certain as all that? Remember it's a pretty stiff course, and from what I heard this morning, the company your horse is likely to meet will be more than usually select.'

'I'm not the least afraid,' he answered 'My horse is a good one, and if he is well, will walk through them as if they were standing still. Especially with you on his back.'

I took this compliment for what it was worth, knowing that it was only uttered for the sake of giving me a bit of a fillip.

'I shall see you, then, this evening?' I said.

'This evening. Can you come to dinner?'

'I'm afraid not,' I answered; and with a parting salutation we separated and rode on our different ways.

When I reached the corner I turned and looked back at him, asking myself what there was about Whispering Pete that made him so different to other men. That he was different nobody could deny. Even the most commonplace things he did and said had something about them that made them different from the same things as done and said by other people. I must confess that, while I feared him a little, I could not help entertaining a sort of admiration for the man. Who and what was he? He had been in the township now, off and on, for two years, and during the whole of that time, with the exception of myself and a few other young men, he had made no friends at all. Indeed, he used to boast that he had no sympathy with men above a certain age, and it was equally certain that not one of the elderly inhabitants of the town, from my father and old McLeod downwards, had any sympathy or liking for him.

When I had watched him out of sight, I rode on to the McLeods' selection, and, having tied up my horse, entered the house. Sheilah, I discovered, was not at home, having ridden out to their back boundary to see a woman who was lying ill at one of the huts. Old McLeod was in the stockyard, branding some heifers, and I strolled out to give him a hand. When we had finished we put away the irons, and went up the path to the house together. On reaching the dining-room, a neat and pretty room, with Sheilah's influence showing in every corner of it, the old man turned and put his hand on my shoulder. He was a strange-looking old chap, with his long, thin face, bushy grey eyebrows, shaven upper lip, and enormous white beard. After looking at me steadily for a minute or so, he said, with the peculiar Scotch accent that time had never been able to take away from him, —

'James, my lad, it is my business to warn ye to be verra careful what ye're about, for I ken, unless ye mend your ways, ye're on the straight road to hell. And, my boy, I like ye too well to see ye ganging that way without a word to so stay ye.'

'And what have you heard about me, Mr McLeod?' I asked, resolved to have it out with him while the iron was hot. 'What gossip has been carried to your ears?'

'Nay! nay!' he answered. 'Not gossip, my laddie. What I have heard is the sober truth, and that ye'll ken when I tell ye. First an' foremost, ye've been card-playing up at the house on the hill yonder these many months past.'

'That's quite true,' I replied. 'But I can also tell you that I have not seen or touched a card for close upon five weeks now; and, if I can help it, I never will do so again. What else have you been told about me?'

'Well, lad,' he said, 'I've heard that ye're going to ride in the races out on the plain yonder next week. Maybe that'll not be true, too?'

'Yes. It's quite true; I am.'

'But ye'll think better of it, laddie. I'm sure of that!'

'No! I have no option. I have promised to ride, and I cannot draw back.'

'And ye'll have reckoned what the consequences may be?'

'I think I have!'

'Well, well; I'm sorry for ye. Downright sorry, laddie. I thought ye had more strength of mind than that. However, it's no care of mine; ye'll have your own day of reckoning I make no doubt.'

'I cannot see that what I do concerns anyone but myself,' I answered hotly.

He looked at me under his bushy eyebrows for a second or two, and then said, shaking his old head, —