The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  ‘Ian McLeod, are you there?’ he called, realising his foolishness as soon as he spoke. Ian couldn’t hear him.

  ‘He’s here, McLeod,’ Trevalyn replied.

  Relief and hope drew Alec on and he worked feverishly, clearing his way through to the trapped men. He crawled on torn and bleeding elbows through the space, tumbling out with a splash into the foetid, water-filled cavern that had saved the four miners and his brother.

  ‘Took your time, McLeod,’ Trevalyn remarked as Alec stood.

  Trevalyn had been correct. The water had reached the men’s knees but they had used some of the spoil to create a platform on which the two injured men lay.

  Alec knelt in the water beside his brother. In the light of the lantern, Ian could have been dead. He lay quite still, his face ashen and his eyes lost in dark hollows. He brushed the mud from his brother’s face.

  ‘Ian, I’m here. Where are you hurt?’

  Ian licked his dried and cracked lips but said nothing.

  ‘His arm,’ Trevalyn replied. ‘Might be other injuries, but we’ve tidied the arm up as best we can.’

  Alec drew his brother to him as though he were a small child. ‘Ian, how can you forgive me?’ he whispered into his brother’s filthy, matted hair, knowing the younger man couldn’t hear him.

  ‘I always knew you would come,’ Ian said.

  Thirty-One

  Eliza spent the rest of the day working in the crib room, providing meals and endless cups of tea for the men working below. Finding the men alive was one thing, getting them out, quite another.

  Long after it had gone dark, she retired to her uncle’s office to rest. She lit the fire and sank into a chair at the table where she laid her head on her arms, too tired to make her way back into town. Even though she craved a bed, she didn’t want to leave Alec. He would need her as much as she needed him.

  She must have slept, because she woke with a start as the office door slammed. She looked up, brushing hair from her eyes. The fire had burned low and the candle on the desk was nearly a stub and for a moment she thought she was seeing a ghost. The hope that it would be Alec with news slipped away and she stiffened, every nerve taut. She had never seen the resemblance between her uncle and her brother but the dishevelled figure standing in the doorway staring at her looked younger than his years, and for a moment the likeness took her by surprise.

  She pushed back the chair and rose. ‘They said you’d left.’

  Cowper gave a bitter laugh. ‘You know the ways in and out of this town, Eliza. Leaving is not that easy.’ He jerked his head at the safe. ‘I left something important in there.’

  ‘Take it and go.’

  He pulled a small pistol, similar to the one he had handed to Jennings the night before, from his pocket and levelled it at her. ‘Just be a good girl and sit there and be quiet.’

  She complied, poised for flight if the opportunity arose, but Cowper’s nerves were strung tight and if she so much as shifted her weight in the chair, he’d swing the pistol in her direction.

  The safe stood in the corner beside the fireplace, a sturdy model opened with a key, which he selected from the ring he carried. He flung the door open, stuffing bank notes and documents into a canvas bag. When he was done, he sat back on his heels and surveyed the empty safe.

  ‘You know this is all your fault,’ he said. ‘If you had left town when I advised—’

  ‘I would never have discovered the extent of your perfidy? How long do you think it would have been before the discrepancy in the mine returns would have been noticed? As for forging my brother’s will, that is unforgiveable. You’re a thief—worse than a thief. You stole from William and I, the two people in the world who most trusted you.’

  Cowper screwed up his face, running his hand through his hair. ‘Eliza, I’m sorry—sorry for everything. I cared deeply for Will … and for you. I didn’t mean to hurt either of you, but the opportunity was there and I took it.’

  ‘Did you kill my brother?’

  His eyes widened. ‘No. As God is my witness, I would never have hurt him.’

  ‘But you thought nothing of allowing that brute Jennings to carry me off. Do you know what he threatened to do to me?’

  ‘You were safe enough.’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for Jack Tehan, I would not be here now.’

  ‘Tehan?’ Cowper gave a short, derisive laugh. ‘Tehan trims his sails to the wind. I suppose you think him pure as snow now?’

  ‘No. I know he forged the will and was complicit in the theft of the gold, but he has something you lack—integrity. What do you intend to do now?’

  Cowper lifted the bag and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. ‘You’ve left me no option, have you? I have to go. I’ve got enough set aside to establish myself in another forgotten corner of the empire.’

  ‘But first you have to get out of Maiden’s Creek.’

  He glanced at the door. ‘You might just have to help me.’

  Eliza’s breath caught, understanding his intention. ‘Just go,’ she said. ‘I’ll say nothing.’

  But her uncle had a wildness in his eyes she’d never seen before. He shouldered his bag and grabbed her arm, jerking her out of the chair and pushing her toward the door.

  ‘Come with me.’

  She pulled back. ‘No. You’re in enough trouble already, Uncle.’

  He shrugged. ‘I am beyond caring. Now, just keep your mouth shut.’ He twisted her arm behind her back and pushed her ahead of him.

  Outside, she cast wildly around, looking for help. The crowd had long since dispersed and the courtyard was deserted except for a few men at the mouth of the adit. She willed them to turn but they were engrossed in a conversation. A light burned in the crib hut and she could make out figures moving within but in the shadows nobody would notice the two figures, even if they did happen to glance in their direction.

  Cowper pushed Eliza down the dark lane between the workshop and the administration building, following the tram lines toward the battery and the tailings.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Cowper swung around at the sound of Flora Donald’s voice, drawing Eliza to him, the pistol pressed against her ribcage.

  ‘He has a weapon, Miss Donald,’ Eliza said. ‘Just turn away.’

  The Scotswoman emerged from the shadows between the buildings and put her hands on her hips. ‘Is that so?’ she said. ‘And are you really going to kill her, Mr Cowper?’

  ‘I will,’ Cowper said. His voice had risen and Eliza could smell the fear oozing from him.

  ‘Well, I don’t think I can permit that.’

  From behind Flora Donald came the sound of upraised voices and the thunder of feet and the men who had been standing at the entrance to the mine pulled up at the sight of the two figures standing at the head of the tailings. Eliza’s breath hitched at the sight of Alec.

  Alec took a step in front of Flora. ‘Let her go, Cowper.’

  Cowper shook his head. ‘This is your fault, McLeod, as much as hers. Why did you have to start asking questions?’

  ‘Let Eliza go and we can talk about what’s been done to this mine and to your niece.’

  Cowper’s fingers tightened on her arm and Eliza was reminded that trapped rats will fight for their survival. He took another step back, his foot slipping on the loose rock. He regained his balance and glanced behind him.

  From the corner of her eye, Eliza could see that they were now poised precariously, the sheer drop down the tailings only inches behind them.

  Alec took another step forward. Cowper shifted but did not move. Time seemed to slow and the men who stood with Flora Donald faded into the background as the world contracted to just Eliza, her uncle and the man approaching them.

  Alec stretched out his hand. ‘Let her go, Cowper. You don’t want to die like Will.’

  Cowper whimpered as the rocks skidded beneath him, one large rock dislodging and falling with a dull thud.

  ‘Please,
Uncle,’ Eliza whispered.

  With a sharp, anguished cry of disgust mingled with fear, Cowper flung her away from him. Alec caught her as she stumbled, holding her, his arm almost pressing the breath from her.

  Cowper raised his face to the sky and stretched out his arms. The pistol fell from his hand and for a heartbeat, Eliza thought he would throw himself from the tailings heap. But the fight went from him and he fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands.

  Two burly miners pushed past Alec and Eliza and grabbed Cowper by the arms.

  ‘Take him to the office and watch him,’ Alec said. ‘Someone fetch Maidment.’

  The arm around her relaxed and Alec drew her into a gentle embrace, his head resting on hers. ‘I thought,’ he murmured. ‘I thought he would take you with him.’

  ‘I think that makes the third time you have saved my life, Alec McLeod.’

  ‘I just have to keep a better eye on you, Miss Penrose. I think you and I need to talk about that—when this is over.’

  She nodded, suddenly too tired to speak.

  He pushed her away from him. ‘You’re exhausted, Eliza. Go back to Netty’s and get some sleep. It’ll be morning before we get the first man out.’ He turned to Flora Donald. ‘Can you see to her, Miss Donald? I’ve got to get back.’

  Eliza raised her head to look at the unsmiling Scotswoman. ‘Thank you, Miss Donald.’

  ‘You’ve nothing to thank me for. I didn’t do it for you. I happened to see you pass the hut and thought something was not right. Now, you need to get to a bed. I know Mrs Burrell has been waiting for you. I’ll see you down there.’

  Thirty-Two

  3 August 1873

  ‘Eliza! Eliza!’

  Woken from a deep, dreamless sleep by Netty shaking her, Eliza rolled over and looked up. It took a moment for the blur of her friend’s face to come into focus.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘They’ve got the first man out!’

  Eliza sat bolt upright on the daybed and ran a hand through her hair. From beyond the cottage came the din of bells, as if every church in Maiden’s Creek had extra reason to ring as loudly and as joyfully as it could this particular Sunday morning.

  ‘I have to get up there.’

  Netty put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you’ve had a good wash and some food. I thought you were halfway dead when Flora Donald brought you in last night.’

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Ten in the morning. You’ve had a good eight hours’ sleep.’

  ‘Where’s my uncle?’

  ‘Locked up with that dreadful man Jennings. Amos says Maidment plans to take ’em both down to Melbourne on Monday.’

  Eliza stared at Netty as the memory of the previous night came back. ‘I really believe he would have killed me.’

  Netty gasped. ‘Did he admit to killing your brother?’

  ‘No.’

  The outside door opened and Charlie walked in carrying something pressed to her chest. Something small and furry that mewed and wriggled in her grasp.

  ‘Joe Trevalyn gave me this to me,’ she said and held up a small ginger kitten. ‘Said he heard about me dog. Isn’t he lovely?’

  Netty opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.

  Eliza smiled. ‘He’s lovely, Charlie. He looks a bit like Windlass.’

  ‘Windlass?’

  ‘Mr McLeod’s cat.’

  ‘Can I keep him?’ Charlie looked from one woman to the other.

  Netty shrugged. ‘I think that’s up to your mother.’

  ‘How is Annie?’ Eliza asked.

  ‘She’s grand and so’s the baby,’ Charlie answered.

  Netty picked up a tiny baby’s smock from a pile she had been folding. ‘Amos went up to the hut this morning and packed a box. I thought I’d just give everything a wash.’

  The little garment was made from what could have once been a linen sheet, but it had been beautifully smocked and decorated with embroidered roses.

  ‘Who made this?’ Netty asked Charlie.

  ‘Ma. She made it when I was born. She’s good with a needle. She’s tried teaching me, but I’ll never be as good as she is.’

  Netty folded the little smock and restored it to the others in the pile and handed the clothes to Charlie. ‘Take these into your mother and tell her I’ll bring her a cup of tea shortly.’

  As the door closed behind Charlie, Netty lowered her voice. ‘I’ve a foolish notion of offering Annie employment. You know I’ve more work than one person can manage.’

  Eliza laid her hand over her friend’s. ‘I think that is an excellent notion, but you need to tread carefully with her, she’s fiercely independent.’

  ‘Aye, but I think some of the fight’s gone out of her. The baby gave her a bad scare and she’s not out of the woods yet. Now, you wash and change. I’ve some pie for you.’

  Netty set the kettle to boil and as Eliza sat at the table, enjoying Netty’s excellent pie, there was a soft rapping at the door. Netty opened it to Nell and Jess, neatly dressed in Sunday best, as if they were on their way to church. The two women stood on the doorstep as if reluctant to enter, despite Netty’s invitation.

  ‘We heard about Mad—about Annie,’ Nell said, ‘and we’ve brought something for the bairn.’ She handed over a leather pouch.

  Netty opened it and looked inside. ‘That’s kind of you,’ she said. ‘Every bit will help.’

  ‘It’s not much but we know what was done to Annie and—’ Nell glanced at Jess, ‘—I hope that bastard Jennings hangs.’

  Eliza rose to her feet. ‘If you knew, why did no one tell the police?’

  Nell stared at her. ‘The police? Think they’d care? Jennings tried it on our Sissy, but Lil took to him with the shotgun and he never came back. Reckon that’s when he—’ She shrugged. ‘Never mind.’

  ‘I saw Sissy in Melbourne,’ Eliza said. ‘Did you know she was dying?’

  Netty shot her sharp glance. ‘Dying?’

  There had been no chance to tell Netty about her meeting with Sissy.

  ‘Consumption,’ she said.

  Nell nodded. ‘When Penrose died, she gave up. She just let the consumption take her.’

  Jess tugged her friend’s sleeve. ‘Gotta go, Nell.’

  Netty stood at the door, watching the two women slip away. She turned to Eliza. ‘What you said about Sissy … That grieves me,’ she said. ‘I was that fond of her and Miss Adelaide will be sorry to hear it too.’ She picked up the pouch of coins and opened the door to Annie’s room.

  Eliza was relieved to see Annie had some colour in her cheeks and the baby asleep contentedly in a wooden cradle beside the bed.

  Netty patted the cradle. ‘Amos made this for me when I thought we might …’ Her mouth tightened. ‘But it wasn’t to be. Dr Sims says I’m too old.’ She handed Annie the purse. ‘Lil’s girls sent that for you.’

  Annie took the purse. ‘For me?’

  ‘For the bairn.’

  Annie nodded and took Charlie’s hand. ‘First I’ve got to get you some decent clothes and things you’ll need for school.’

  Charlie’s face fell. ‘But I’m not allowed to go to school.’

  ‘I think you’ll find the situation is a little different now,’ Netty said. ‘Annie,’ she continued, ‘I have a proposition for you.’ She put her offer to Annie.

  The woman stared at her. ‘Me? Work here?’

  ‘Your needlework is exquisite,’ Netty said. ‘Truth is I need a good needlewoman like you, Annie. And I know a small cottage you and Charlie can rent.’

  Charlie let out a squeal. ‘Please say yes, Ma. We can live in a proper house and I can go to school and Sarah can go to school and—’ The child’s desperation for normality radiated from her, and Annie nodded.

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said. She looked at Eliza. ‘Jack’s not coming back, is he?’

  ‘I don’t know. He said he’d send money.’

  Annie looked at
the sleeping baby. ‘I’ve no wish to go back to the way things were without Jack to keep an eye on us.’

  ‘You never have to go back,’ Eliza said. She saw the hope in Charlie’s eyes and thought of Mrs Wallace and her wonderful school. If Charlie could get a scholarship, perhaps … One thing at a time.

  Netty beamed. ‘That’s settled then. Now I’d like to go up to the mine and see how things are. Eliza?’

  ‘Can I come too?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘We’ll all go,’ Netty said.

  It seemed like the entire town had gathered at the gates of the mine, stretching down the approach road to the bridge over the swollen creek. The throng parted to allow the two women and the child to reach the two police constables at the mine’s gate.

  ‘What’s the news?’ Netty asked the larger of the two, Prewitt.

  ‘They’ve got Tregloan out,’ he said.

  ‘Please let us pass, Prewitt,’ Eliza said.

  The constable nodded and lifted the latch on the gate.

  ‘Miss Penrose!’ Susan Mackie pushed her way through the crowd. The girl looked as if she’d had no sleep since the initial collapse, her eyes red with exhaustion. ‘I’ve been desperate. They won’t let me in, but I have to see Ian …’ Her face crumpled.

  Eliza put her arm around the girl. ‘Come with me. Let her through, constable.’

  The women crossed the courtyard to the crib room, where the men were resting after their rescue. Jenny Tregloan knelt beside her husband, holding his hand and talking to him. If the young man heard her, he gave no sign, but the rise and fall of the blanket indicated he still breathed.

  Dr Sims came forward and steered Netty and Eliza away from the others.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to look in on Mrs O’Reilly. Is she faring well?’

  ‘Ellen Bushby has called a couple of times,’ Netty said.

  ‘No sign of fever?’

  ‘No.’ Eliza glanced at the young man on the stretcher. ‘How’s Tregloan?’

  ‘A bit early to tell. Looks like he had a blow to the head and he’s badly dehydrated, but he’s young and fit. He should be fine.’