Settling Day

CHAPTER XXV
A STRICKEN WOMAN

The affair at Barker's Creek caused a great sensation, and the Sydney and Melbourne papers had long accounts of it, chiefly supplied by Adye Dauntsey and Dr Tom Sheridan. The latter took care to let it be known how Rodney Shaw had acted, and his report was the cause of a startling and unexpected dénoûment.

A week after the fight Jim Dennis had retired for the night. He was alone in the house with Sal, as Willie had gone to Barragong for a change. He had been out all day, and, being thoroughly tired, slept soundly.

During the night a woman might have been seen toiling with weary steps across the lonesome land. She was footsore and hungry, well-nigh starving. She had been at Swamp Creek and found there no rest or shelter. She seemed to shrink from contact with everyone, and had it not been for the doctor's dog she would have gone on without food or drink. Baalim was sniffing round his master's house as usual, on the lookout for a canine encounter, when he saw this woman. Baalim knew every man, woman and child in Swamp Creek, and he perceived she was a stranger. Such an important fact must be communicated to the doctor.

The dog bounded into the house barking furiously, and Dr Tom, coming out to administer a caution to him, saw the woman standing, uncertain, outside in the street.

'She looks deuced tired and hungry,' he thought, and without hesitation called to her.

'My good woman, you look tired,' he said. 'Have you come far?'

'From Sydney,' she said in a weak voice.

Dr Tom was staggered and incredulous. Sydney was some hundreds of miles away.

'A team-master gave me a lift as far as Barragong,' she explained. 'I have walked from there.'

'Come in and rest, and I will find you something to eat,' said the worthy doctor.

She hesitated, but he insisted, and she came inside.

'She's seen better days,' thought Dr Tom, but delicately forbore questioning her, although he wondered what she could want at Swamp Creek if she had no friends, which seemed probable.

She ate like a famished woman, and he was sorry. When she had finished she thanked him and left, and he made no effort to detain her; he had no right to do so.

He watched her walk wearily down the street and leave the town.

'Poor soul!' he said to Baalim as he patted his ugly head. 'She's seen trouble, old dog; and, by Jove! she must have been a handsome woman once. What a pity! Where the deuce can she be going to?'

Her meal at Dr Tom's had given her strength, and under the starlit sky she struggled on. She followed the coach track and at intervals sat down to rest.

Towards morning she came in sight of Wanabeen and stopped. For fully half an hour she stood and looked at Jim Dennis's home. Her eyes filled with tears which coursed down her sunken cheeks, and she sank down upon her knees and tried to pray.

The words could not come, for there was a great sin upon her soul. Her breath came in sobs and gasps, she panted like a wounded creature. Staggering to her feet, she pushed on hurriedly, fearing her strength would fail, and at last sank, exhausted, on the steps of Jim Dennis's house, much as Sal had done years before.

Then she passed into a fitful slumber, and as Jim Dennis had found Sal, so the half-caste found her.

Sal rubbed her eyes and looked.

'A white woman!' she exclaimed, and then felt afraid.

What could a white woman want here? How did she get there?

Sal looked at her long and earnestly, and something in the woman's face seemed familiar to her.

Where had she seen a face like that?

She must call Jim Dennis and let him act as he thought best.

She roused him and he started up.

'Is it late, Sal?'

'No, early, about five'

'What has happened?' he said sharply, noticing the scared look on her face.

'There's a woman asleep on the steps – a white woman.'

Jim Dennis clutched her arm.

'A white woman,' he repeated in a hoarse voice.

'Dress and go out to her,' said Sal.

Jim Dennis put on his clothes mechanically; he dreaded he knew not what.

'A white woman,' he muttered, 'and she has tramped it here.'

He went out in a hesitating kind of way.

'What is she like?' he asked quietly, but she noticed the tremor in his voice.

'Go and see. She is asleep. You can look at her face.'

He had not pulled on his boots, and he went quietly outside. He looked at the sleeping woman and staggered back as though he had been stabbed. He put his hand to his face to shut out the sight.

What a flood of memories rushed over him.

Sal watched him. She knew now where she had seen such a face before. It was like Willie's face when he was at the point of death.

Jim Dennis looked at the sleeping woman again, and his features became hard and stern; his mouth was cruel and his eyes flashed ominously.

Yes, it was Maud come back. The woman who had so deeply wronged him and blighted his name, the woman who had disowned her own son – he could have forgiven her, perhaps, but for that.

He went inside and took up his revolver.

Sal looked at him, terrified, then she darted forward and held him by the arm.

'No, no, not that, master, not that. I know her. It is Willie's face. You found me there half dead and carried me in your arms and restored me to life. You cannot kill her. She is Willie's mother!'

He still held the revolver and shook her off.

'It is murder, murder – and a woman in her sleep. Jim Dennis, you are a coward for the first time! Deal with the man who wronged her and you. Have a settling day with him first.'

She had roused him. The taunt struck home.

'By God! I will, Sal. Settling day with him. It will be a heavy one.'

Out on to the verandah he went again, and when the woman opened her eyes she saw the man she had so deeply wronged looking down upon her like an embodiment of the spirit of vengeance.

So terrified was she at his look that she fainted and rolled on to the ground.

Sal went to her assistance.

'She comes not into my house again,' said Jim.

'What of the man?' asked Sal.

'She can come in,' answered Jim.

'Carry her in.'

'No.'

'Then I will,' and Sal lifted the light form in her arms and placed it on her own bed. 'What you did for me I do for her,' she said.

Maud Dennis, for such it was, although she bore no right to the name, gradually recovered.

Sal was at the bedside and smoothed her hair.

'Who are you?'

There was a faint suspicion of jealousy in the tone of her voice.

'I am Sal, Jim Dennis's housekeeper.'

'Not his wife?'

Sal looked at her with contempt as she answered, —

'No, not his wife.'

'Forgive me. I loved him so much long ago.'

'Then why did you leave him? It was cruel,' said Sal.

'It was kind. I should never have made him happy,' she said.

Jim Dennis came in.

'Leave us alone,' he said to Sal.

'You'll not hurt me, Jim? You'll not kill me?' said the wretched woman. 'Oh, if you knew how I have suffered! I am dying, Jim, and I have come to tell you all.'

'No, I will not kill you, and you deserve to suffer. I want to hear nothing, only one thing – his name,' said Jim Dennis.

'You must hear. I was tempted, tried. I did not tell him who I was, and he would never have known but when he deserted me in London, I meant to follow him some day and denounce him for the villain he is. He knows now, and let him beware of you. He ill-treated me. I lived a wretched life, and then when he had tired of me he cast me off. I wronged you past forgiveness, but how have I suffered for my sins? I worked and slaved day and night until at last I had to fall still lower.'

She shuddered, and he turned his face from her. This was the mother of his Willie! The lad should never know it, never see her. He must send to Barragong at once and have him detained there until he could act.

'I scraped enough money together to pay a passage to Sydney in a sailing vessel, one of the poorer class, and the miseries of that long voyage I shall never forget. In Sydney I found my parents were dead. I had no friends, very little money. I started to walk here. A team-master gave me a lift to Barragong.'

Jim Dennis started. Willie was there. Then he recollected the lad would not have known her had he seen her.

'From Barragong I walked to Swamp Creek, where a kindly man gave me food and rest.'

'Had he a big dog?' asked Jim.

'Yes, it was the dog attracted his attention to me.'

'Dr Tom, just like him,' thought Jim. 'He little thinks who she is.'

'Then I came on here. Let me die here, Jim. I have not long to live. You cannot thrust a dying woman out.'

He made no answer.

She moaned piteously.

'Let me die here, Jim. Let me see Willie before I go and ask him to forgive his wretched mother.'

'You may die here,' said Jim, harshly; 'but you shall never see my boy. You disowned him and he thinks you are dead.'

She was crying bitter tears of repentance, but they had come too late, and she was afraid to die without forgiveness on earth.

'Jim!' she said suddenly as she caught his arm. 'Jim, I dare not die without your forgiveness.'

There was such a look of horror in her eyes that even he was softened, and said quietly, —

'I will forgive you, Maud, freely forgive you; but you must never let Willie know, and he shall not see you.'

'Not even when I am dead?' she asked.

'No, not even then.'

She sobbed bitterly, and Sal, hearing her, felt the tears well up into her eyes.

'I never knew him to be cruel before,' said Sal to herself.

'One thing more,' said Jim Dennis. 'Who was the man?'

'Your friend, Jim. Your black-hearted, treacherous friend,' she answered.

'I had no friends,' he said.

'A man who called himself your friend. He was in Sydney. I met him. He was going to England, and offered to take me and spend his wealth with me, marry me when it was possible.'

Light was dawning upon Jim Dennis, and his hands clenched so that the nails bit into the flesh.

'It was Rodney Shaw,' she said.

Jim Dennis sprang up with an oath.

'By God! can such a villain live?' he cried.

'He had not seen me at Wanabeen, you recollect; he had gone to Sydney before I came here, and lived there some time before he went to England. He is a cruel, heartless man, and ruined our lives. He deserves no pity.'

'He shall have none from me,' said Jim Dennis. 'I will flog him like a cowardly cur and then shoot him.'

'He is a dangerous man,' she said.

Jim Dennis laughed harshly. He was not afraid of such a man or a dozen of them.

'Sal,' he called, 'there is work for me to do before it is too late. Send Silas Dixon for Dr Tom as soon as he comes in.'

'Where are you going?' she asked.

'To kill the man that wronged me and tried to ruin you.'

'Rodney Shaw?' she exclaimed in horror.

'He is the man. Settling day has come at last.'

CHAPTER XXVI
SETTLING DAY

Jim Dennis rode towards Cudgegong, vengeance gnawing at his heart.

So Rodney Shaw was the man who had wronged him, and he, Jim Dennis, had clasped his hand in friendship since then.

How he hated the man, this thief who had robbed him and dishonoured his house. It was with a glow of exultation he thought the hour was at hand when he could call him to account. He meant to settle with Rodney Shaw before he got into the more tender clutches of the law. He would show him no mercy, for he had a double score to pay off now, as there was the insult to Sal to be wiped out.

He worked himself up to such a pitch of savage resentment that he was scarcely answerable for his actions.

This was what he desired, to deaden all the better feelings in him so that there was no possibility of his showing any mercy.

He had heard from Constable Doonan that he had hit Rodney Shaw as he escaped from the fight at Barker's Creek, and the wound might have proved dangerous. So much the better, his enemy could not escape him then.

And Rodney Shaw, what of him?

When he made good his escape from the Creek he rode on to Cudgegong, and arriving there in safety, had his wound dressed. The bullet struck him between the shoulders and caused him intense pain.

He explained as well as he could to Benjamin Nix how it happened, and accounted for his presence at the fight by saying the police had surrounded the place while he was at Dalton's house.

'Doonan fired at me as I was escaping, and that is how I got the wound. Do the best you can for me, Nix, I am in a bad way.'

'It serves you right,' thought Nix, and did his best to relieve him.

Rodney Shaw had something else to contend with in addition to his wound. He had heard from Maud Dennis and discovered who she was, and that she intended to let Jim Dennis know the name of the man who had wronged him.

This preyed upon his mind and made his wound worse. He tossed about restlessly and was soon on the high road to a bad attack of fever.

'I will send for Dr Sheridan,' said Nix.

'It is useless; he will decline to come,' said Shaw.

'I have never known him do so in a serious case,' answered Nix. 'He has even attended Abe Dalton and pulled him through a severe illness. If he attended Dalton surely he will come to you.'

'I tell you it is useless,' persisted Shaw. 'There are matters you know nothing of that will prevent his coming.'

Rodney Shaw, however, knew it would not be long before someone else came, the man he dreaded most to see – Jim Dennis. He wished the shot he had aimed at him had taken effect, then he would have been well rid of him.

He knew when Jim Dennis heard the truth nothing would keep him from Cudgegong. If it had not been for his wound he would have been well on his way to Sydney, and might have escaped. He made an effort to rise, but fell back exhausted. He felt it would be better to risk everything rather than face this angry, wronged man. He called Nix and said, —

'If Jim Dennis calls tell him I am too ill to see him.'

'I will,' was the reply; but Nix thought to himself, 'If Jim Dennis wishes to see you no one can stop him after what you have done.' He meant the abduction of Sal; he did not know of Rodney Shaw's greater sin.

When Jim Dennis arrived at Cudgegong he got off his horse and strode into the house.

Benjamin Nix barred the way, and asked, —

'Do you wish to see Mr Shaw? If so, he is too ill; it would be dangerous to disturb him.'

Jim Dennis laughed.

'I have no quarrel with you, Ben,' he said, 'but I must see him. If the shock of my presence kills him, well, so much the better, it will save me doing it.'

'You don't mean to harm him?' said Nix, alarmed.

'That's precisely what I do mean,' said Jim.

'Then you must be prevented from doing so,' said Nix.

Jim Dennis knew there were several people about the place, and he did not wish to be hindered in his work, so he tried to propitiate Ben Nix. 'I shall not be long with him,' he said; 'and when I have done with him, and you know all, you will side with me.'

'I always do that,' said Ben. 'You and I have never been bad friends.'

'But we shall fall out if I do not see him quietly,' said Jim. 'I mean to do so, and you had better let me pass.'

Benjamin Nix saw he meant it, and stood on one side.

He argued that a disturbance would probably be as dangerous to Rodney Shaw, or more so, as an interview with Dennis.

'Which room is he in?' asked Jim.

Ben pointed it out to him, and he went to the door.

He knocked, and Rodney Shaw said angrily, —

'Come in. There is no occasion for you to knock, Nix. I have not had a wink of sleep for hours.'

'You will have plenty of sleep shortly,' said Jim Dennis, entering the room.

Rodney Shaw lay on his bed and stared with glassy eyes at the speaker. He felt as though his last hour was at hand, and he wished he could rise and fight for his life. He could not move without causing intense pain, and there he lay, helpless, at the mercy of his bitterest enemy.

Jim Dennis strode up to the bedside and shook him roughly.

'Get up and answer for your sins, you black-hearted scoundrel!' he said in a voice of suppressed passion. 'No shamming sick with me, remember. Stand up and fight for your life like a man – Heaven forgive me for calling you one!'

Rodney Shaw groaned.

'I am wounded,' he said. 'I have been shot.'

'Where?' asked Jim Dennis. 'Show me the wound.'

'I cannot.'

'Show it me.'

'It is in my back, between my shoulders,' said Shaw.

Jim Dennis laughed savagely.

'In your back. A fitting place for it. Things such as you never face an enemy, they are always wounded in the back.'

He pushed him over and saw there was blood on the bed.

'So you have not lied this time,' said Jim. 'I have come to have a settling day with you. It is a long-standing account and a heavy one. You are the scoundrel who stole my wife and robbed my child of its mother. You are the man, and you have taken my hand in friendship since.'

He raised his whip and was about to bring it down across Rodney Shaw's body. He hesitated. He would not strike a wounded man with his whip.

'I meant to thrash you, but you cannot stand up and take it. That part of your punishment I will count out, but you must pay the rest in full.'

'What do you mean to do?' asked Shaw.

'Kill you before I leave the house, anticipate death by a few hours. You are bound to die anyway. I can see it in your face. Your miserable victim is at my house, dying, and you are going fast, but I will not give you that chance, for I mean to kill you, Rodney Shaw.'

'At your house?' gasped Shaw.

'Yes, she dragged herself there to die, a victim to your treachery and cruelty. Even when you had stolen and dishonoured her you could not be true to her. You are too vile a thing to live, therefore you must die.'

'One word, Dennis. I wronged you, but not knowingly. I did not know she was your wife.'

'That makes no difference to me. You wronged her, that is sufficient. Leave me and my wrongs out of the question. I have waited for this day for years and have sworn you shall pay the penalty.'

Rodney Shaw was gasping for breath. The excitement and the moving of his body had caused his wound to bleed profusely, and he soon became exhausted, and fainted.

Jim Dennis watched him with a bitter smile on his face.

'I have been cheated at last. He cannot stand up and take the punishment I would give him. I cannot shoot an insensible man, it would be murder. Sal was right, it would be as cowardly with him as with her.'

He opened the door and called Benjamin Nix.

'He is insensible,' said Jim. 'His wound has opened again and he is bleeding to death.'

'Then nothing can save him?' said Nix. 'I have sent for Dr Sheridan.'

'He is at Wanabeen by now,' said Jim.

'Who is ill there?'

'My wife, or the woman who was my wife.'

Benjamin Nix knew something of that story.

'Has she returned?' he added.

'Yes, to die in the home of the husband and child she had deserted for that man,' said Jim, as he pointed to Rodney Shaw.

Benjamin Nix started back and said, —

'Can it be possible he is such a villain?'

Rodney Shaw opened his eyes and looked at them vacantly. A violent fit of coughing seized him and the blood poured from his mouth. He commenced to struggle, for the terrible flow choked him. They went to his assistance and raised him, but it was too late, his head fell back and he was dead. A higher power than Jim Dennis's had summoned him to answer for his sins.

'Jim, I'm glad of it; I mean that I'm glad it happened this way, not your way,' said Nix.

'It is better so,' said Jim. 'He will have a heavy settling day when he is called before his last Judge.'

'Sometimes I have thought he was not Rodney Shaw,' said Ben Nix,'but someone very like him.'

'Who knows?' said Jim. 'That's strange. I have thought the same thing.'

Jim Dennis rode back to Wanabeen.

During his absence Dr Tom had arrived and done all that lay in his power to ease the dying woman and render her last moments free from pain.

The messenger sent to Barragong had missed Willie Dennis, who was on the way home.

When Jim Dennis arrived at Wanabeen and entered his house he saw his son standing by the bedside holding his mother's hand. To violently pull him away was his first impulse, but Dr Tom stopped him by saying in a low voice, —

'She is going fast, Jim. Be very quiet.'

Peacefully and quietly the woman who had wronged and been wronged passed away, with Willie's hand in her own.

'Who was she, father?' asked Willie.

Those words spoke volumes to Jim Dennis.

He bent over and kissed the dead woman's forehead.

'An unfortunate woman I once knew well, Willie,' he said, and thought to himself, 'She died without letting him know; it was brave of her. May she be forgiven as freely as I forgive her.'

'Rodney Shaw is dead,' said Jim to the doctor.

Dr Tom looked at Jim and then at the dead woman. He fancied he had solved the problem of Jim Dennis's life, and he was not wrong.