The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  She had time to regain her feet and take several steps away from the box before her uncle burst through the kitchen door, a small pistol in his hand. Eliza’s gaze went from the pistol he held to his face. His nose was swollen and reddened and his eye blackened.

  Seeing her, he took a step back, lowering his weapon.

  ‘Eliza, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in Melbourne. I could have shot you.’

  ‘I secured that teaching position and I was on my way back to Maiden’s Creek to fetch my belongings when I heard of the mine collapse. I only got in this evening and went straight up to the mine to see if there was anything I could do to help but the ladies didn’t need an extra hand and I’m exhausted from the journey. Mrs Harris told me the back door was unlocked and I was looking for a light.’

  Cowper frowned as he pocketed his pistol. ‘Were you indeed?’ His gaze fell on the broken cup and saucer.

  Eliza edged toward the back door. ‘If it’s not convenient, I will go and stay with Mrs Burrell.’

  As she reached for the door handle, the back door swung open. She stumbled backward as the black-bearded Jennings stepped into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him, leaning on it as he leered at her.

  ‘Good evening, my pretty.’

  ‘Jennings!’ Her uncle’s voice held command and warning. He took a step toward Eliza, a humourless smile curving his lips. ‘I am glad to see you, my dear. I had a letter from my lawyers warning me that you were poking your nose in where it is none of your business. Asking questions. Why couldn’t you just be content with a comfortable post at the school I organised for you?’

  ‘I told Mrs Wallace I had unfinished business here,’ Eliza began but the weeks of mounting anger and disillusionment rose in her chest. ‘And, yes, I have been asking questions and finding the answers. I know you for what you are: a liar and a thief. You forged my brother’s will and stole my inheritance just as you have been stealing the gold from Shenandoah to bolster the profits of Maiden’s Creek.’

  Cowper rolled his eyes, his hand slipping back into the pocket that held the pistol. ‘This is not the time, Eliza. I warned you when you first came that you shouldn’t stay, but no, you had to involve the McLeods in your fancies and now look what has happened.’

  ‘You’re punishing them because of me?’

  Cowper let out a snort of humourless laughter. ‘Trust me, I didn’t plan a mine collapse. The last thing I need are government officials coming here and asking questions. Fortunately, I have a useful scapegoat. As far as the world is concerned, this is Alec McLeod’s doing. It’s not going to be hard to prove that he took shortcuts and foolish risks.’

  Eliza stared at her uncle. ‘If there were shortcuts and foolish risks they were your doing, not his.’

  ‘It’s his signature on the documents.’

  ‘Forged, like my brother’s will. And they were your orders to push the blasting through.’ She raised her chin and drew herself up to her full height. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Uncle, I am weary from the journey. I will leave you and return to Netty Burrell’s and we will continue this discussion when the men are free from the mine.’

  ‘Leave? I don’t think so, Eliza. I have enough trouble without you spreading these foul rumours and innuendos.’

  A flicker of fear rose in her stomach. ‘What do you mean? Are you threatening me?’

  ‘I rather think I am. Such a shame because I am really rather fond of you, as I was of William. But he started to ask questions too.’

  Her breath caught. ‘Did you—did you kill him to keep him quiet?’ The words came out as a hoarse whisper.

  Cowper didn’t reply for a long moment. ‘He saved me the trouble.’

  Eliza’s blood turned to ice. What did he mean? That he’d intended to kill Will but something or someone else had intervened?

  ‘We are your flesh and blood,’ she said. ‘Your only family.’

  Cowper sighed. ‘I know, but I don’t need family. You and your brother were just a burden to be borne.’ He straightened his shoulders and ran a hand across his eyes. ‘Like you, I’m tired and I need to rest.’ He turned to Jennings. ‘Let’s deal with her now, Jennings.’

  Jennings took a few steps toward Eliza, leaving the back door exposed.

  Eliza made a dash for the door, wrenching uselessly at the handle.

  Jennings held up the key. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said.

  ‘Let me out!’ She turned to face Cowper. ‘Uncle!’

  Cowper ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘I’m sorry, Eliza,’ he said. ‘I have enough to worry about without you shouting your fanciful little tales to the world. I am sure when the trouble at the mine is settled we will be able to come to some arrangement, but until then, I am going to put you somewhere out of the way. Jennings, my niece has often expressed a desire to visit Shenandoah. Why don’t you take her and show her the delights of her brother’s mine while I decide what to do with her?’

  Jennings grinned and grasped Eliza by the forearms and she opened her mouth to scream but he whirled her around, one brawny arm pinioning her arms to her side while the other hand clapped across her mouth.

  Cowper frowned and glanced at his bedroom door. Eliza saw now it had failed to click shut and stood ajar. ‘Hold her, Jennings. I am just going to check on something.’

  He left the kitchen carrying the lantern. A stream of invective came from his bedroom and he returned to the kitchen eyes blazing and his colour high.

  ‘Where is it?’

  Jennings dropped his hand from Eliza’s mouth but maintained his hold on her even as she tried to wriggle free.

  ‘Well? Answer me, damn you!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You know damn well.’ He took a step toward her and struck her across the face.

  She slumped back against Jennings, her ears ringing and a blinding pain in her head as her uncle’s face came close, snarling and unrecognisable.

  ‘You’re nothing better than a sneak thief. I should just put a bullet in you now and get it over with. You know damn well what I’m talking about—the documents you took from behind the painting.’

  ‘What documents? I don’t have anything belonging to you. Look at me, where would I conceal it? You came home before I had a chance to even look.’

  Cowper’s chest rose and fell as he struggled to get his anger back under control. ‘You should have stayed in England, my girl, and when I am done with you, you will wish you had. Get her out of here, Jennings.’

  ‘What do I tell Tehan?’ Jennings said.

  ‘Tell Tehan I want her held until I’ve made a decision about what to do with her. And if he decides to be difficult, remind him of our arrangement.’ He raised a finger. ‘And Jennings … she is not to be touched. Do you understand me?’

  The black-bearded man grunted and Cowper tossed him the pistol.

  ‘Good. I’m going to bed.’ And with that he turned on his heel, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

  Jennings changed his grip on Eliza, holding her by one arm as he traced the line of her throat down to the buttons of her jacket with the muzzle of the weapon.

  ‘So, pretty lady, it’s you and me. No Scottish hero to save you now.’

  The bile rose in Eliza’s throat but she met his gaze, determined not to show fear. ‘You heard my uncle.’

  Jennings glanced at the door and shrugged. ‘Don’t think for a minute anyone who cares about you will see you again. You’re dead, my girl. One way or another. May as well have some fun.’ He tugged her arm, thrusting her toward the door. ‘And just in case you are thinking of screaming—’ He pulled off the sweaty rag he wore around his neck. ‘Open your mouth.’

  The cold metal of the pistol’s barrel on the tender skin beneath her jaw convinced Eliza that she should cooperate. She retched as he gagged her with the ghastly fabric before pushing her into the night.

  A horse snuffled in the dark and Jennings shoved her toward it. As h
e untied the animal, she covertly pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and let it fall, grinding it into the mud with her heel. Jennings hoisted her into the saddle, swinging up behind her and pulling the reins around her. As he did so, his hand cupped her breast and he laughed.

  ‘I thought you’d be a good handful,’ he said.

  Eliza held back a moan of fear. She would hate for him to think it was one of desire. The stench of the man sickened her, and bile rose again behind the loathsome cloth wedged in her aching jaw.

  Her last hope of being seen as they left the town evaporated as he turned the horse up the hill, following a path she had never noticed before, which took them up to the ridgeline and north, beyond the town boundaries. When they descended to the Aberfeldy Road they were well away from Maiden’s Creek.

  The cold cut through her clothing and she shivered, fighting back the tears generated by the real fear that, as far as Charles Cowper was concerned, she was better off dead. Just like Will.

  They approached Annie’s hut but no light nor sound came from the shabby building. Even the dog was silent. On such a cold night it was probably inside.

  They turned on to the Pretty Sally Track, which rose steadily, winding through dark gullies until they reached a small settlement perched high on a mountainside. Eliza stiffened, casting her eyes to right and left, looking for a light, for someone to help, but they rode unchallenged through the dark, silent settlement before turning onto a steep track that wound down from the ridge to a gully from which the familiar ka thump, ka thump of a battery stamper echoed around the hills. As they rounded a bend in the track she could finally see lights. Her heart quickened its beat. This had to be the Shenandoah Mine.

  They entered through a pair of solid wooden gates and the track flattened out as it passed through a cluster of rough sheds that made up the mining settlement. From a tall, corrugated-iron building the steady cadence of the stamper reverberated. For a mine not producing any gold, it had the air of an enterprise in full operation.

  ‘Tehan!’ Jennings shouted.

  Jack Tehan came out of a small hut, pulling on his jacket. ‘Jennings! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were long gone.’

  ‘Boss has sent you a package. You can have her.’

  As Jennings shoved Eliza sideways, she gave a muffled cry. Tehan moved fast and caught her as she tumbled from the horse, setting her on her feet. He pulled the noisome gag from her mouth, keeping a grip on her arm.

  Relieved of the cloth, Eliza leaned over, retching.

  ‘What the hell’s going on, Jennings?’ Tehan said.

  ‘Cowper wants her kept somewhere out of the way until the business at the Maiden’s Creek Mine is done.’

  ‘Water, please,’ Eliza croaked.

  Tehan appeared not to hear her. ‘Why?’

  ‘This little lady has been asking questions. She knows about the gold.’

  Tehan’s grip tightened on Eliza’s arm and he swore under his breath.

  Jennings had dismounted and stood with his horse’s reins looped over his arm. ‘I think we both know what Cowper will want done with her,’ he said and handed Tehan Cowper’s pistol.

  ‘Get me the lantern from my hut.’

  When the man entered the small hut, Tehan leaned forward. ‘What did you think you were doing, Miss Penrose?’ he said in a low voice. ‘And what am I going to do with you?’

  Jennings re-emerged carrying a lantern and handed it to Tehan.

  Tehan took Eliza by the arm and led her away from the main camp. When Jennings followed, he turned. ‘Go and find a crib, Jennings. I can manage Miss Penrose.’

  ‘Want her to yourself?’

  ‘Get out of my sight.’

  He waited until Jennings turned and made his way back into the main encampment.

  ‘Did he touch you?’ Tehan asked.

  Eliza didn’t answer and Tehan grunted, taking her silence as an affirmative. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll make sure he can’t get to you.’

  Eliza stumbled along an uneven path, coming to a halt before an unused mine adit, little more than a hole in the cliff face.

  ‘You’ll be safe enough in here,’ he said.

  He led her into the tunnel, which went into the hillside for about twenty-five yards. The end had been secured with a metal grille, and Tehan pulled out a set of keys, fumbling for the right one. He unlocked the heavy padlock and thrust her into the dark interior.

  The light of the lantern illuminated a rugged cave filled with wooden boxes and piles of sacking. She sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands, willing herself not to cry.

  Tehan hunkered down in front of her and took her hands, pulling them away from her face. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Penrose. This is all I could think of. It’s the most secure place on the site.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  He shook his head and ran a hand over his eyes. ‘It’s more for your own protection. I know Jennings, and you need a stout lock between him and you. You must be tired, so I suggest you try and get some rest. I’ll fetch you some things to make your stay more comfortable. It’s going to get perishing cold before daylight. Fortunately, you’re far enough into the hill that it stays quite warm.’

  ‘What is this place?’

  ‘It’s the original adit,’ Tehan said. ‘Your brother moved the mine workings up the hill and made this the storeroom. It’s dry and secure and I’m the only one with the key, so Jennings and his crew won’t get to you.’

  He stood up and suddenly she didn’t want him to go, didn’t want to be left alone in this place.

  ‘Are you going to leave me here?’

  He gestured at the lantern. ‘I’m just going to fetch a few things to make you more comfortable. I’ll leave you the lantern.’

  After he left her, she sat with her back to a stacked pile of timber supports, breathing in the unusual sweet scent of the cut wood. She recognised it from her visit to Maiden’s Creek Mine. What had Alec called it? Huon pine, an expensive but strong wood they had been bringing in from Tasmania. Had this shipment of wood been intended for Maiden’s Creek? If so, the theft of the wood could be added to her uncle’s crimes.

  She inspected the boxes but failed to find anything of any use. Even if she knew how to pick the substantial lock that secured the door, she had no idea how to get herself to safety or indeed, who she could trust. It said much about her predicament when the only person she had any confidence in was Black Jack Tehan.

  It seemed an age until he returned with blankets and other objects, which he deposited on the floor, and squatted down across from her.

  ‘There’s spring water in this flask and a bucket for your convenience,’ he said. He handed her a flask and she drank deeply, grateful to rid herself of the taste of Jennings’s neck cloth. Restored, she put the flask down and Tehan handed her a package wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘Bread and cheese,’ he said. ‘I thought you might be hungry.’

  At the mention of food, her stomach growled and she pulled the paper apart in her haste. The bread was stale and the cheese hard but she ate both with gratitude.

  Tehan leaned against a wall, watching her as she ate. ‘So you know what Cowper’s been up to. I’d say you’ve as good as ruined his plans and he’s not a man who takes well to being thwarted. If he wants you dead …’

  Eliza looked at Tehan, his face no more than a pale oval in the gloom. ‘Are you going to kill me?’

  ‘Me? I’m many things, Miss Penrose, but I ain’t a killer.’

  ‘But Jennings is.’

  Tehan straightened. ‘There’s a stack of sacking in the corner—I suggest you get some sleep.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the mouth of the adit. ‘I’ll be right there. You’ll be quite safe.’

  ‘You’re not going to leave me?’

  He shook his head and smiled. ‘Let’s see what the day brings.’

  He secured the lock and settled down in the mouth of the adit, wrapped in a blanke
t, his rifle across his knees. For the first time in hours, Eliza relaxed; although quite why she would find Black Jack Tehan’s presence reassuring, she could not have said.

  Sitting around in the cold and the dark feeling miserable would gain her nothing so she made a bed from the sacks and wrapped herself in the blankets. She extinguished the lantern and lay down. She needed to rest and gather her strength to see what the daylight brought.

  Twenty-Six

  1 August 1873

  In the dark hours before dawn, Alec stood in the shadows watching the comings and goings at the mine. His pounding head reminded him that a copious amount of alcohol on top of a still healing head wound may have been a mistake. It had taken a small, chestnut-haired firebrand to bring him to his senses.

  Feeling sorry for yourself is not the answer. You are good at what you do and what we need now is someone to tell us how to get those men out. Drinking yourself into oblivion is not helping anyone.

  He’d taken her advice, drunk several cups of tea and fallen onto his bed but the alcohol-fuelled sleep had not been restful. Images of the men trapped in the pitiless dark screamed at him until they had driven him from his bed. He could no longer stand by and do nothing.

  ‘Can’t sleep, Mr McLeod?’

  He started, turning sharply at the woman’s voice, recognising Eva Trevalyn.

  ‘Mrs Trevalyn. I—’

  ‘You don’t have to defend yourself to me, McLeod. I know the truth. I know what Cowper’s been up to. I’ve got it all written down.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Cowper was undermining your orders, substituting substandard wood for the Huon and driving the blasting forward. My husband couldn’t say anything for fear of losing his job, but he told me. He wrote it down and signed it. Gave it to me for safekeeping. He had a feeling the Knockers would come. They don’t take kindly to such bad practices.’

  Alec let out a breath that clouded in the cold air. ‘Thank you, Mrs Trevalyn. Thank you for believing me.’

  She laid a hand on his sleeve. ‘They’ve been down there too long, haven’t they, McLeod?’