At Large
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III
AFTER FOUR YEARS
One chilly night in June, 1886, the ship _Hesper_, bound from Melbourneto London, sailed into the Channel. She carried the usual wool cargo andtwenty saloon passengers besides. When the Lizard light was sighted, theexcitement--which had increased hourly since the Western Islands wereleft astern--knew no reasonable bounds. For the _Hesper_ was a hundredand eight days out; and among her passengers were grizzled Colonists, towhom this light was the first glimmer of England for thirty years; menwho had found in the Colonial Exhibition at South Kensington an excuseto intrust vast flocks and herds to the hands of overseers, and toconsummate that darling scheme of every prosperous Colonial, which theyrender by their phrase "a trip home." Sweepstakes on the date ofsighting England, got up in the tropics, were now promptly settled;quarrels begun in the Southern Ocean were made up in the magic elementof British waters; discontent was in irons, and joy held the ship. Farinto the middle-watch festive souls perambulated the quarter-deck withnoisy expressions of mirth, though with the conviction that the vesselwas behaving badly; whereas the vessel was a good deal more innocent ofthat charge than the gentlemen who preferred it. But even when the lastof these roysterers retired there was still one passenger left on thepoop.
A young man leaned with folded arms upon the port rail, staring out intothe night. It seemed as though his eye penetrated the darkness, andfound something bright beyond, so wistful was its gaze. One bell rangout from the forecastle, two bells followed half an hour later at oneo'clock, but the figure of this dreamer remained motionless. For an hourhe did not stir; but, as his imagination became more vivid, theexpression of his eyes grew softer, until their yearning melted into athin, thin film, and the firm lines of the mouth relaxed, and facialcreases carved by a few hard years were smoothed away. He was only a fewhours ahead of the _Hesper_ after all: she was off the Cornish coast,and he (in fancy) far up the Thames.
Three-bells aroused the dreamer. He stood upright with a start. Hepassed his hand quickly across his forehead, as if to rid his brain ofweak thoughts. He began tramping the deck rapidly. Now the whole man waschanged: his step was brisk, his frame instinct with nervous animation,his chest swelled proudly, his eyes sparkled with triumph. He had hungover the rail like any sentimental home-comer; he marched the deck likea conquering hero.
Yet this was one of the youngest men on board, and his years of absencefrom England were but a tithe of some of his fellow-passengers. During along voyage the best and the worst of a man's character come out; butthis man's display had been less complete than any one else's, and hewas probably the better liked on board in consequence. Though reservedand quiet, he had, indeed without being conscious of it, become verypopular. Perhaps one factor in this was the accidental discovery,half-way through the voyage, that he could draw uncommonly well; for itopened up a source of unexpected entertainment at a time when the stockamusements of the high seas had begun to flag. But there was one thingabout him which, had his fellow-passengers suspected it, in allprobability would have interfered considerably with his popularity: thiswas the astounding fact that at the age of twenty-five he had alreadymade his fortune.
One scene from the bush life of this exceedingly lucky young gentlemanhas already been set forth. It will be sufficient to briefly glance atthe remainder of his Colonial career, since details of unbroken successare voted a bore by common consent.
The firm of Flint and Edmonstone did well out of licensed hawking.Perhaps their honesty--which was as transparent as it was original inthat line of business--had much to do with their success; for althoughsquatters were at first sceptical of the new firm, their eyes were atonce opened to the iniquitous prices of the Jews, who had hithertoenjoyed a monopoly of their custom. The newcomers thus gainedexperimental patronage, which they retained on their merits. After ayear they advanced a step in the mercantile scale of the Colony: theyset up a general store at a rising settlement on the Darling. The storehad not been opened six months when the senior partner's chequered lifein the Colonies was terminated in a manner utterly unforeseen. Word camethat he had inherited, through an accommodating series of deaths, moneyand property in Ireland. It was no brilliant heritage, but it held outadvantages greater on the whole than back-block storekeeping could beexpected to afford. Withdrawing a temperate share of the profits, Mr.John Flint kicked the dust of the Riverina from his long boots, andfinally disappeared from the face of the desert, and Edmonstone was leftsole proprietor of a most promising "concern."
The luck that had hitherto attended him was soon to be enhanced; for,gold being discovered close to the little township on the Darling, a"rush" from all parts of Australia followed. As in most similar cases oflate years, expectations were by no means realised on the new diggings.Still, people came, and the storekeeper was a made man.
A colonist of less than three years' standing, he joined three congenialspirits in the enterprise of stocking a station in the new Kimberleydistrict of Western Australia. Here a huge success seemed certain inprocess of time; when, in the full tide of prosperity, with all hetouched turning to gold beneath his fingers, with the lust of wealthupon him, there came a sudden revulsion of feeling. He realised that hehad already amassed a fortune--small enough as fortunes go, but beyondhis wildest hopes when quitting England. He saw that to go farther wasto pursue wealth for wealth's sake--which was a rather lofty view of it;and that luck might not last for ever--which was shrewd; and that, withthe sufficiency he had won, a rather better kind of existence was withinreach. In short, he sickened of money-grubbing in a single night, andturned desperately home-sick instead; and, as it was not a game ofcards, he was able, without incurring anything worse than compassion, torise a winner. He determined to go home, invest his "pile," live on theinterest, and--devote himself to art! He journeyed forthwith toMelbourne, and there succeeded in disposing of his share in theKimberley station for a sum little short of five figures.
Dick Edmonstone was opposed to sensational methods, or he would havetaken the first mail-steamer and dropped like a thunderbolt among hispeople in England, with his money in his pocket. Besides, an exceptionalamount of experience crammed into four years had robbed him, among otherthings, of nearly (though not quite) all his boyish impetuosity. So hemerely wrote two letters by the first mail to his mother and to acertain Colonel Bristo. Thereafter he took his passage by the clipper_Hesper_, then loading at Williamstown, and prepared for a period ofreflection, anticipation, and well-earned rest.
Dick Edmonstone had altered a good deal during his four years inAustralia. In the first place, the big boy had become a man, and a manwho held up his head among other men; a man who had made his way by hisown indomitable perseverance, and who thereby commanded your respect; aman of all-round ability in the opinion of his friends (and they wereright); a man of the world in his own (and he was wrong). And all attwenty-five! The old tremendous enthusiasm had given place to athoroughly sanguine temperament of lusty, reliant manhood. He was coolernow, no doubt, but his heart was still warm and his head still hot.Strangers took him for thirty. His manner was always independent, couldbe authoritative, and was in danger of becoming arrogant. This much,successful money-hunting had naturally brought about. But a generousdisposition had saved him from downright selfishness through it all, andthe talisman of a loyal, honest, ardent love had led him blamelessthrough a wild and worldly life. And he was still young--young in manyways. His hopes and beliefs were still boundless; they had all come trueso far. He had not found the world a fraud yet. On the contrary, heliked the world, which was natural; and thought he knew it, which didnot follow because he happened to know some rough corners of it.
One curious characteristic of young Edmonstone as a public schoolman anda modern young Englishman was the entire absence in him of false pride.Though transported pretty directly from Cambridge to Australia, he hadtaken to retail trade (of a humble kind at that) with philosophicalsang-froid. On leaving England he had a
sked himself, What was his chiefobject in going out? And he had answered, To make money and return. Didit matter how he made it, once out there? No. No manual toil needdegrade him, no honest business put him to shame. In England it isdifferent; but in her democratic Colonies her younger sons--whether fromPoplar or from Eton--must take the work that offers, as they covetsuccess. Dick Edmonstone jumped at his first opening; that it chanced tobe in the licensed hawking line cost him hardly a pang.
Indeed, he looked back lovingly in his success on those early days,when all he possessed in the world was invested in that daring venture.He thought of the anxiety that consumed him at the time, and of JackFlint's cooling influence; and whenever he thought of those days oneepisode rose paramount in his brain, obliterating other memories. Thatepisode was the "sticking-up" of the wagon on the first trip by Sundownand his men, which must have meant his ruin but for the extraordinarybehaviour of the bushranger with regard to the pocket-book and itscontents. He did not forget that the bushranger had preserved his lifeas well as restored his money. And that hundred pounds actually turnedout to be the nucleus of a fortune! Sundown--poor fellow--was captured;perhaps by this time hanged, or imprisoned for life. Just before the_Hesper_ sailed, word of the outlaw's arrest in a remote district ofQueensland was telegraphed from Brisbane. He had been heard of from timeto time during the preceding years, but on the whole his gang had doneless mischief and shed less blood than some of their predecessors. Asfor Dick, when he read of the capture he was downright sorry. It may bea passive order of kindness that refrains from robbing a man; yet Dickwas so peculiarly constituted as to feel in secret more than a passingregret at the news.
But as the _Hesper_ drew towards the Channel he thought less and less ofthe life he had left behind, and more and more of the life before him.He longed all day to feel the springy turf of England under foot oncemore; to have the scent of English flowers in his nostrils; to listen toEnglish larks carolling out of sight in the fleecy clouds of an Englishsky. How green the fields would seem! How solid the houses, howvenerable the villages, how historic the rivers of the Old World! Andthen how he longed to plunge into the trio he styled "his people"--hismother the widow, his brother the City clerk, his sister the saint! Yetwhat were these yearnings beside one other! What the dearest kin besideher who must yet be nearer and dearer still!--the young girl from whomhe had fled to seek his fortune--for whom he had found it. In her hishonest yearning centred, in her his high hopes culminated. Of her hethought all day, gazing out over the sun-spangled waves, and all night,tossing in his berth. A thousand times he cursed his folly in choosingcanvas before steam; the time was so long--and seemed longer; thebrightest days were interminable ages; favouring gales were lighter thanzephyrs.
He allowed no doubts to interfere with the pleasures of anticipation; nofears, no anxieties. If he thought of what might have happened at homeduring the last four or five months since he had received news, thecatalogue of calamities was endless. He did not believe disappointmentpossible through any sort of a calamity. If those he loved stilllived--as he knew they did five or six months ago--then he was sure ofhis reception; he was sure of hearts and hands; he was sure of hisreception from every one--yes, from every one.
The future seemed so splendid and so near! Yet it was giving the futurehardly a fair chance to expect as much of it as young Edmonstoneexpected during the last days of his homeward voyage.