The Girl From Eureka

by Cheryl Adnams

  ‘You mean you’ll be flogged and court-martialled.’

  He nodded solemnly. ‘I may not have a chance to get away after today.’

  A sadness came into her eyes as she glanced across to where Sean had now joined Annie and Walter in delivering food to families of the injured. ‘I’ll leave them a note. It’ll hurt to just walk away, but Annie will understand. And now they have Walter. He’ll take care of them.’

  Will brushed a curl from her forehead and kissed her there. ‘Tell them we’ll send for them when we get settled and they can join us if they wish.’

  ‘You are a good man, Will Marsh.’

  Picking up his red coat, he kissed her once more before embracing her. The thought of leaving her alone again had him tightening his hold for a moment before he found the strength to let her go. ‘I’ll see you at your mother’s later.’

  ‘Be careful.’

  ***

  Once out of the miner’s camp, Will pulled on his slightly damaged red coat. He slipped quietly into a group of soldiers who were returning to the government camp with a collection of prisoners hobbled together. It pained him to see these simple men in chains, many of whom were carrying injuries so severe they should have been going to a hospital, not prison.

  As he walked across the compound, still limping a little with his own injuries, he spotted Captain Thomas outside the Gold Commissioner’s hut. The man gave him a look of suspicion as Will pretended to be amongst the soldiers ferrying the prisoners.

  ‘Good to see you made it back safely, Lieutenant Marsh,’ Thomas called out. ‘And with a haul of fugitives. Fine work, Officer.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Will called back through gritted teeth. There was nothing he could do for these poor blighters. Any show of opposition now would see him in leg irons shackled together with them.

  Out of the line of sight of Captain Thomas and the command, he veered off towards the tent he shared with George, who just happened to be there when he arrived.

  ‘Christ almighty!’ George blurted on seeing Will. ‘Are you wounded, man?’

  ‘Just a few bumps and scrapes,’ Will played it down. ‘I had a run in with some miners after the attack.’

  ‘Where have you been all this time?’ George asked, helping Will to sit on his stretcher bed. Will hissed through his teeth at the ache in his ribs.

  ‘Trying to find a safe way to get back.’ He could see George’s doubtful expression out of the corner of his eye. ‘Were you not there this morning? In the attack against the stockade?’

  ‘No, I was put in charge of the brigades here, tasked with protection of the camp,’ George said shaking his head. ‘Thomas came looking for you late last night. I had to cover for you. I told him you were preparing the men to protect the rear of the camp. I watched them sneak down the hill towards town at half four this morning.’

  Will nodded, exhaustion threatening to swallow him again.

  ‘I thought you’d deserted. Where were you?’

  Will hesitated on whether to tell George that he’d been with Indy last night. It would definitely be safer if George was unaware that he’d been helping with the wounded at the camp after the attack.

  ‘Where’s Timmons?’ Will asked, looking for their other tent mate.

  George’s whole body sagged. He couldn’t meet Will’s eyes.

  ‘No,’ Will said, his shock forcing the word out in a gasp.

  ‘A small number of soldiers lost their lives on the field,’ George said, his usually cheerful expression replaced with one of dismay. ‘Timmons was one of them.’

  ‘There are several others seriously wounded,’ George went on. ‘But Timmons … he took a single gunshot wound to the throat.’

  They spent a moment in silence, remembering their fallen comrade, their lost friend.

  ‘George, you and I have been friends a long time.’

  ‘We have,’ George agreed sitting across from Will on his own cot.

  ‘Brothers even,’ Will added and George nodded. ‘If I were to tell you something … something that would surely get me killed or court-martialled should you share it, can I trust you to keep it to yourself?’

  ‘I would take it to the grave, Will,’ George said insulted. ‘How can you ask me that?’

  Will shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, old friend. It’s been a dreadful night. I wasn’t thinking straight.’

  ‘So?’ George asked. ‘What is it then? What’s this big secret?’

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Will said quietly. ‘Today.’

  George just stared at him unblinking for a moment and Will wondered if he had made a mistake. But then his friend took a deep breath and exhaled as he smiled wistfully.

  ‘I think I knew that already. Is it the girl?’

  ‘Partly. I love her.’

  George grinned. ‘Told you.’

  ‘Yes, yes, you were right as usual,’ Will conceded.

  ‘Then I give you my fondest wishes for your happiness, Will,’ George said. ‘But why must you leave for love? Many officers are allowed to have their wives along for the campaigns.’

  ‘It’s not just her,’ Will said shaking his head. ‘It’s this.’

  He waved his hand towards the opening of the tent where they could see prisoners being transferred to larger holdings.

  ‘This?’

  ‘You don’t think what happened here this morning was an over-reaction? An abuse of power?’

  George took a deep breath and exhaled in a gust. ‘It’s not up to us to think, Will. We have orders.’

  ‘And if those orders are wrong?’ Will asked. ‘If they kill innocent women and children? Innocent men come to that? Is it right to send a battalion of hundreds of armed soldiers and policemen to attack a group of civilians armed with nothing but a few rifles and handmade pikes? Do the ends justify the means?’

  ‘I feel we have had this conversation before.’

  Will nodded. ‘Yes. And you were right. My words smack of dissent. And that is why I am leaving. I no longer believe in the greater good of the British campaign here. I was there, George. It was a massacre. And even after the stockade was taken and so many men killed, those boy soldiers were allowed to run riot attacking men and women who were already wounded. They ran them through over and over with bayonets. I saw the carnage for myself.’

  George said nothing, but Will could see by the tensing of George’s jaw that he was unhappy with what he was hearing. ‘Is your girl alright?’

  ‘She is uninjured,’ Will said. ‘But she helped the fugitives escape, and she is a miner herself. If they catch her—’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ George stopped him with a raised hand saying he understood. ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘North. That’s all I know and I think it’s best if I don’t tell you anything else. It’s for your safety as much as mine. You know they will question you after I am gone. I don’t want you in any trouble.’

  ‘If they catch you, you will be court-martialled,’ George reminded him.

  ‘It’s a risk I am willing to take.’

  George studied Will closely and gave a sad smile. ‘I will miss you. We have grown up together in the Fortieth regiment. Seen much of the world together.’ He stood and held out his hand to his friend.

  Will took George’s offered hand and let him help him up. Then he pulled George into a one armed embrace with a slap on the back for good measure.

  ‘You are the best of men, George Preston. I will never forget you.’

  ***

  Will showed his face around camp a little more to ensure people knew he was there. He found his horse in the line-up of animals tied to the fence and casually packed things into his saddlebags for his departure later that evening. The soldiers were drinking heavily now and despite the Commissioner’s concerns about a counterattack, the spirits of the men were high. Even the sentries were partaking in the rum that was being handed about. It would be easy for him to make his escape in the twilight.

  As he finished loading his ge
ar into his saddlebag that afternoon, he noticed another Lieutenant standing beside his horse. He was from the Twelfth regiment, Will believed. He didn’t know the man well but he could read easily the expression on his face. Guilt.

  Will didn’t wish to appear suspicious himself so he nodded at the Lieutenant in greeting. ‘Hell of a morning.’

  ‘Hell is a good word for it,’ the Lieutenant replied gruffly.

  ‘You do not think it was a good victory then?’ Will asked, still wary.

  The other Lieutenant scanned the vicinity as though checking no one could hear. ‘I do not. The act that took place this morning was murder, plain and true.’

  Will took a breath. ‘I agree.’

  ‘I cannot stay in Her Majesty’s service,’ the man lowered his voice further. ‘I am a God-fearing Christian man with a wife back in England and a child I have never met. Four soldiers are dead, nine wounded and countless of those poor miners lay festering in their own blood and muck. I must do what I feel in my soul to be right.’

  Will nodded. ‘As must I. This was a disgrace what happened here.’

  ‘It was,’ the Lieutenant agreed. ‘When do you plan to go?’

  ‘Tonight. At sundown.’

  ‘No. The men shoot at anything that moves after dark. A woman was shot early this morning as she passed by the government camp. The ball went through her and then through the babe in her arms. Both dead.’

  Will felt sick. Even after everything he’d seen, the more stories he heard, the more horrifying it all became.

  ‘You must go now, while the men are still celebrating and drunk. Go while confusion still reigns. They will be expecting a counterattack tonight and they’ll rally the troops. You won’t get five paces past the fence. You have your belongings there in your saddlebags?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘You must go now,’ the Lieutenant said again, mounting his horse.

  Will took one long study of the camp, its inhabitants still in disarray dealing with prisoners and the wounded. The young boy soldiers were high on the adrenaline of battle, toasting their victory with grog Captain Thomas himself had handed them.

  ‘I thank you, sir, for your counsel and your discretion,’ Will said and mounted his horse. ‘Good luck on your journey back to England.’

  The two men rode out of the camp acting for all intents and purposes like two soldiers on a patrol. Once they reached the Melbourne Road, they shook hands and parted ways and Will watched the Lieutenant kick his horse into a gallop and head for Melbourne. He was sorry he had never thought to ask the man’s name. Then he turned his own horse and headed for Mary Wallace’s cabin.

  Chapter 29

  Gum leaves crunched beneath her feet as Indy walked through the bush. The aroma filled the air and lightened her heart. It replaced the smell of blood and gun smoke that seemed to have permanently attached itself to her since this morning’s massacre. The small duffel bag she carried held everything she owned of value from the campground in Eureka. She’d left a note for Annie and Sean. Her heart was heavy that she couldn’t have told them more and she wished they could have travelled together. But Will was right. It was better for all of them if they went separately. And safer for Annie and Sean that they didn’t know about Will’s desertion.

  Will.

  Her heart fluttered. So much had happened since they’d held each other, loved each other, in the small bed at the boarding house. Had that really only been last night? When she had left him sleeping at the widow Barnett’s, he’d been determined to stay with the army. But then he’d seen the horror of the attack on the stockade. It had been the last straw for him. He was too good a man with too big a heart to be party to such brutal tactics.

  As she came to the road, her daydreams were interrupted by the sound of horse’s hooves.

  ‘Dammit,’ she swore.

  Lost in her thoughts, she’d heard the sound too late to hide. All she could do was prepare herself to act as though she were just on an afternoon’s walk. Pasting on a smile, she turned to face the traveller. But her smile faded rapidly at the sight of a policeman riding towards her. Her concern turned to fear in a heartbeat as she recognised Donnelly. She also saw the moment his face registered her, too, as he rode closer.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said, pulling his horse up in front of her as she tried to dart into the safety of the scrub. ‘Uh, uh, uh.’ He shook a finger at her as he manoeuvered his horse, blocking her path as though he were herding her like cattle.

  He dismounted and she took the opportunity to make a run for it. But he was faster. She felt the sharp pain in her skull when he yanked her by her hair. Losing her footing and hitting the ground heavily on her back, she let out a pained cry. He quickly dragged her to her feet, again by her hair, and finding strength in her anger she fought back. She dug her short nails into his hands making him curse and let go of her momentarily.

  ‘You little bitch!’ he yelled and slammed his fist in a backhand against her cheek.

  Indy fell to the ground again with a thud, her hands grazed painfully along the rough dirt of the dry road. She shook her head to clear it and tried to get up but Donnelly shoved his boot into her back, pressing her down.

  ‘Stop fighting,’ he told her as she struggled against him. ‘You, my little daughter, cost me a comfortable and wealthy life as a gentleman. I should be in England now, instead of this cesspool of a colony.’

  ‘Nothing could make you a gentleman,’ Indy shouted back, twisting and turning as she fought to escape from him. ‘And you’re delusional. I cost you nothing. We left England without anyone knowing what you had done to my mother. You must have raped someone else. Someone who didn’t stay quiet about it. No doubt you’ve spread your disgusting seed across half of England. If your career was ruined, you did it all by yourself.’

  He leaned down so close to her face that she could smell the booze on him.

  ‘I could kill you and say you were a fugitive from the stockade running from the law. Do you think anyone will care, or even notice for that matter, with everything else that’s going on in Ballarat just now? I’d probably get a bloody medal.’

  Real panic soaked Indy in a cold sweat. He was right. No one would blink an eye should a miner girl go missing or suddenly turn up dead. She thought of Will and her mother, and it gave her fortitude. No. She wouldn’t die now. She refused to die. Not after all of this.

  He stood upright and she took the opportunity to scramble away from him. But before she could find her feet, she watched horrified as he removed the whip from the horse’s saddle.

  ‘You are nothing but a bastard rebel and a soldier’s whore,’ he said and raised the whip to bring it down on her.

  Indy covered her face, waiting for the snap of the whip and the certain agony that would follow. She heard the crack but felt nothing.

  Donnelly’s horse spooked at the sound, and the thud of something landing near her had her lifting her head. Donnelly lay beside her, his face contorted as his surprised eyes fixed on hers. His breathing was quick and laboured, and she was confused until she saw the blood seeping through his blue uniform tunic, spreading across his chest as the life leaked out of his body. When her stunned gaze travelled back to his face, it was relaxed—his eyes cold and dead.

  Panicked, she scrambled away from him and stood up to stare down at the unmoving corpse of her father. She should feel something she supposed. But there was nothing. No grief. No relief. Nothing.

  A footfall behind her had her swinging around quickly, knowing now that the crack she had heard was a gunshot. She was surprised to see a woman walk towards her, a gun hanging loosely in her hand. Indy didn’t know the woman and watched warily as she moved in and looked down at the body of Donnelly.

  ‘Thank you,’ Indy said still shaking. ‘I’m sorry, but you have killed a policeman.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ the woman answered, her voice hollow and emotionless. ‘This man killed my husband. I stood in front of my Kenneth at the stockade after they
had shot him. He was wounded. Wasn’t that enough? They kicked me out of the way and this man, this animal, he took that knife in his pocket there and slit my husband’s throat.’

  The woman met Indy’s gaze for the first time. Quiet tears had fallen down her cheeks as she’d spoken. She must have been no older than herself.

  ‘Why?’ the woman asked.

  Indy shook her head. A dull ache was beginning to set in. ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’

  Wiping the blood from her cheek where Donnelly had struck her, she remembered Will and her mother.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I have to go. I suggest you do the same. Run. Go back to the camp as though nothing happened. Thank you. I wish you well.’

  ‘And you.’

  Indy began to move as quickly as she could through the scrub. As the shock subsided, the pain began to set in. She turned back once and was glad to see the woman had moved on, away from the dead body of Sergeant Donnelly.

  When she arrived at the cabin, Will rushed out the door to greet her, but the relieved smile on his face was quickly replaced by alarm.

  ‘Oh my God, Indy. What happened?’

  Gently he took her now swelling face in his hands and wiped at the drying blood on her cheek. Mary rushed out too, having heard Will’s raised voice. They led her into the house and sat her down in the chair by the window. Mary wetted a cloth to put to her daughter’s injured face.

  ‘Were you attacked on the way here?’ Will asked, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands.

  ‘Ow.’ Indy hissed at the pain that flared.

  He turned her palms over and saw the scrapes left by her desperate scramble across the road. Small pieces of stone and dirt were etched into her skin and Mary moved the cooling cloth to her hands. It felt heavenly and Indy closed her eyes for a moment.

  ‘Indy, who did this to you?’ Will asked.

  ‘Donnelly.’