The others followed him. Fifty yards inside the bush they came upon a horse tethered to a fallen branch. She was whinnying and stamping her hooves, trying to get away from the oncoming smoke. He released her and gave her to one of the smokers, with orders to take her back to the stable. He had no idea how she might have got there, but he recognized Mrs. O’Sullivan’s horse, the horse she had told him was stolen, which should have been waiting patiently to be returned to her owner in Hop Li’s paddock.
About two hundred yards further in they came to the hut. One look at it, with the barred door and the reinforced windows, and he knew he had found Mette.
22
Frank Comes through the Door
She held her breath, praying the fire would sputter out in the damp undergrowth. But a thin trail of smoke began rising from the pine needles and she knew the grass and brush outside the hut would soon catch fire. As she leaned with her face pressed against the window, the trail of smoke gradually became a billow.
It was getting harder to breathe, and she clung to Hohepa as he sobbed with terror, finally understanding what he had done. The end of the rafter that had cracked when she swung from it had caught fire, and dangled above their heads with tiny flames licking along the ragged, broken edge. A shower of sparks hit her dress and she rolled her hip on it to smother the flame. She could do nothing for Hop Li, but he was awake and edging towards them using his elbows, bringing her shift with him under one arm, protecting the hand Bernard had stamped on with his other hand.
He was coughing hard. “Mette, get down low and under this. It’s still wet. Help you to breathe…”
She took the shift and put it across Hohepa’s mouth like a mask. He stopped screaming and clutched at it as if it would make a difference. If it did, it would only be for a short time. They were doomed. Would it hurt to die in a fire? She’d always thought it would be the worst way to die - worse than drowning or falling from a high place. She dreaded the pain, the slowness of the death, and could not help imagining what Frank would do. He’d be sad for a long time - perhaps for years. But would he marry someone else eventually? The thought devastated her. Frank with someone else? At least he wouldn’t know that their child had also died in the fire.
Hop Li got as close as he could, still coughing, wincing from the pain it caused his eye. “They’ll see the fire,” he said, his voice dry and raspy. “They’ll come and fight it. They’ll get us out.”
But fires were often left to burn themselves out. She’d seen the tiny green shoots that emerged after a bush fire, and knew that sometimes the settlers welcomed the fires as a way to bring about new growth. More than that, there were no farms out here and this lone hut would not be worth saving. No one would do anything unless lives were involved, and this hut was deserted.
The music she’d heard earlier had stopped. People would be leaving the pledge tent by now, hurrying home to bed or to a late meal. She imagined them all watching and pointing at the fire, feeling glad that the dirt of the race track would keep it away from them. It would be like watching a display of fireworks.
Another spark fell on her skirt, and she smothered it with her hand. The pain from the burn seared into her. This was how it would feel as she died. Painful and awful. She pulled Hop Li closer and the three of them huddled together.
She heard a new sound in the distance, coming closer. Men shouting, the sound of the bar being lifted from the door. The door must have been stuck, because someone threw himself against it several times. There was a crash, and that someone burst though the door, one arm across his face, ready to take on whoever he found inside.
Frank.
For a minute she thought she was hallucinating. She was seeing the one person she wanted to see more than anyone. But more people appeared through the door - a man with ginger hair and charcoal spots all over his face, her friend Wiki - and they were real. She stood up and dragged Hohepa to his feet. He still had her shift pressed against his face like a child with a blanket. She took two steps towards Frank and heard him say, “Mette, thank God.” Her hands touched his, then her legs buckled. She felt him catch her as the world faded away.
She returned to her senses inside a kaleidoscope of colour. Everything was broken into patterns of grey, red and green - fire, smoke and trees. They were still in the bush and Frank was carrying her in his arms, holding her as if he thought she might disappear again. She could feel his heart pounding as he strode through the underbrush, dodging between smouldering logs and trees that had not yet caught fire but reached out to them like giants. She said nothing, but pressed her face into his chest and held him tightly around his neck. She heard someone else nearby and lifted her head to see who it was: Wiki, dragging Hohepa behind her, holding on to his upper arm as if she was about to take him behind the barn and give him a good hiding. Hohepa was safe.
She scratched Frank on his chest. “Hop Li?”Her voice was raspy from the smoke.
He smiled down at her. His beard was singed and he had a long line of charcoal drawn across one eye, making him look like a pirate. “He’s safe. He’s in the hands of a cricket team. They’re carrying him home like a trophy.”
She closed her eyes. A cricket team? She must have misheard him. But never mind. She’d been wanting to see Frank for what seemed like weeks, and now here he was. Saving her. She could probably walk, but at the moment she didn’t want to. Just this once she wanted him to save her.
They arrived back to the circle of light thrown off by the gas lit pledge tent; he lowered her slowly to her feet but did not let her go. Someone wrapped a blanket around her, squeezing her shoulders - Will Karira she thought.
A woman came from the stables and headed straight for them; Mrs. Patterson, the woman Bernard worked for. She moved closer to Frank. What was she doing here? Was Bernard here as well, still pretending to be Frank?
“My goodness. What happened to you?” Mrs. Patterson leaned over and sniffed Mette, exuding a wave of tea rose scent that reminded Mette of her mother. “You smell of smoke.” She took out a small vial of rose water, poured some on a lace handkerchief and wiped Mette’s face for her. “This is my blessing water.” She gave a small smile. “But I’m sure my congregation won’t mind if I use it on you.”
“We’d best get into town,” said Frank. “The cricket team and Mr. Todd are taking Hop Li and Hohepa in a dray. They’ll take them right to Dr. Marriner’s place. They’ll wake the doctor up if necessary. Hop Li is going to need some care.”
“Will Hop Li lose his eye?” asked Mette. “Bernard hit him with a belt…the prong went right through his eyelid.” She noticed Mrs. Patterson did not react to the name of Hop Li’s assailant. Did she realize that it was her man who had kidnapped Mette and destroyed Hop Li’s sight? Surely she could not be ignorant of the way he was. And why no reaction to the name at least?
Mrs. Patterson finished wiping Mette’s face and tucked her handkerchief inside her sleeve. “Why don’t you come into town in the coach with me? I only have room for one other person, but I’m sure Sergeant Hardy won’t mind riding behind us.”
“I hate to let her out of my sight,” said Frank. “But she would be more comfortable…”
“No, no,” said Mette. Mrs. Patterson was being kind, but she employed the man who had done so much harm to her, and had killed Mrs. Gammel. She detested the idea of being anywhere near anyone connected to Bernard. And she wanted to talk to Frank about the last two days before she decided if she could trust Mrs. Patterson.
She cast about for an excuse and saw Wiki lifting her brother onto the dray. “I’d like to go with Hop Li and Hohepa,” she said. “Please Frank? We’ve been through so much together…I want to stay with them and make sure they’re both alright.”
“Of course,” he said. “If that’s what you want. Mrs. Patterson, it’s kind of you to offer your assistance, but I prefer to have my wife where I can see her so I can be sure she’s safe. If she wants to ride on the dray, I’m happy to let her.”
Mrs. Patterson raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure? My coach is very comfortable. The springs are elliptic, which reduces the bumping, and the cushions are made of the softest Moroccan leather…you’ll sleep as if you were in your own bed.”
It sounded wonderful - almost too good to be true. But she would not be tempted. “I’m sorry Mrs. Patterson. I don’t mean to be rude, but…”
“That’s quite alright,” said Mrs. Patterson, smiling. “I understand. You’ve been through a terrible time and you need the comfort of friends.” She glanced at Frank. “I feel as if I owe you something, Sergeant Hardy. Are you quite sure you don’t want your wife to ride in my coach? It’s the least I can do, under the circumstances.”
“Looks like a hearse to me,” she heard one of the cricketers say. A friendly-looking man with ginger hair. And he was right. The black carriage did look like a hearse. But what did Mrs. Patterson mean? Under what circumstances? What had happened between Frank and Mrs. Patterson?
Frank helped her onto the dray next to Hohepa, who snuggled up to her. She’d been right to ride with him. He was a scared little boy.
Every bump the dray went over on the way to the centre of town sent a jolt of pain through her body. Her arm throbbed, the burn on her hand screamed, and she was hungry. She’d had very little to eat for two days, just the mutton broth Mrs. Gammel had given her. And she needed to sort out in her mind how to explain everything to Frank. Ernest had hit her, she’d found a letter addressed to her from Mr. Robinson, Mrs. Gammel had been murdered…where should she start?
At least there was one thing she wasn’t worried about. As far as she could tell, nothing had gone wrong inside her. She hadn’t bled any more since she had been hit. Whether that meant she had not been pregnant in the first place, or that she had been and still was, she wasn’t sure. But she would save that news - either way - until she was. No one, not even Frank, would know until then.
23
At the Hotel
Mrs. Patterson said no more, but climbed into her coach and ordered her coachman to take her to the Clarendon Hotel. The coachman raised his whip and flicked it awkwardly over the heads of the horses. Not someone who was used to driving a coach, Frank could tell. Coach driving was an art and Frank considered himself a master of the skill, having been trained by the best - his own father who had honed his skills on the battlefields of Europe. Seeing someone make a clumsy attempt at driving a pair of horses bothered him. Obviously Mrs. Patterson didn’t know any better. She’d been quite taken with Dead Shot, even though she was obviously not experienced with horses. If she knew anything she’d have hired a better coachman.
Mr. Todd drove the dray, which was pulled by an elderly horse with no speed in him at all. They soon fell behind the coach, which slid off into the darkness like a panther on the hunt. Frank stayed near the dray, watching Mette. She was lying between Hohepa and Hop Li, holding tight to Hohepa. Her face was blotched with soot, her hair was a tangled mess, and she had a reddish-blue mark under her eye. But she looked like an angel. She’d been through the fire and survived, and he found it hard to believe he had her back. Whoever had taken her - the person who was leaving a trail of destruction behind him for a horse - was still out there; he was sure the enemy wasn’t done with him yet. If someone wanted the horse that badly, and saw it was under heavy guard at the race course, they would try some other way. Whoever came at him next, he wasn’t going to let them take Mette again. He had killed for her once and he would do it again, even it meant spending the rest of his life in gaol, or even hanging.
Hop Li coughed himself awake and tried to sit up. Frank moved nearer to the dray. “We’ve got you,” he said. “We’re taking you in to town and we’ll get a doctor to look at your eye.”
Hop Li gestured to him, and he leaned down.
“The belt,” he said. “He used a belt.”
“How…?”
Hop Li was wracked with another coughing fit.
“Seen it before,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “Goldfields in Australia. Victoria.”
“You were there…” prompted Frank.
“Lambing Flats. The diggers rioted…”
Frank had heard about riots in other goldfields, but he’d never heard of Lambing Flats.
“What happened at Lambing Flats?”
“Diggers attacked Chinese miners. Cut off pigtails, hurt many…”
“You were attacked?”
“They attacked us with belts. They got the idea from the aborigines - from the woomera they use to throw spears. I should have remembered - the push dagger is no good against…”
He fell back asleep again, and Frank rode beside him, thinking. He knew the miners had revolted against high licence fees and taxes at the Eureka Stockade. The subsequent trials had led to suffrage for colonists. But he hadn’t heard about an attack against Chinese miners. The birth of a new country had these violent upheavals and it was often hard to decide where the right of the matter lay. How was he going to decide what he should do if the government ordered him up to the front? In Australia, the miners had been defeated, but ultimately the country had sided with them. The same thing would happen here if they went in to Parihaka.
Wiki was riding on the far side of the dray with Karira, and Frank could feel a silence between them. Something had happened. She was strong in her beliefs about the rights of her people, while Karira had always been a compromiser. But he had changed since his and Wiki’s pa had been sold from under him by his uncle. And he’d suffered from what had happened to the inhabitants of the pa since it was sold.
Wiki manoeuvred her horse expertly around the back of the dray and came up beside Frank. She was wearing a man’s shirt and pants and a large-brimmed hat that hid her face; apart from her smallness she could easily pass for a young man. He wondered if the government realized that there were women amongst the rebels as they built fences. Women and boys. And the government was considering going in to Parihaka to crush the rebellion and disperse Te Whiti and his followers. Didn’t they understand they would be remembered as being on the wrong side of history?
“Do you think they’re alright, all of them?” asked Wiki. “I’m sorry I left Hohepa behind with my grandma when I went with the fence party. I thought she’d be able to take care of him, but she can’t. And there’s no one else in town who wants him.”
“What about your mother?” he asked. “Isn’t she up in Poverty bay? Couldn’t you take him up there?”
She looked down at the track for a few minutes. “She’s in Parihaka with my aunt. They don’t want children up there. It isn’t safe. They’re expecting an attack.”
She wasn’t much more than a child herself, but he knew she wouldn’t agree. “You know the government will go in and clear everyone out? Wouldn’t it be better to protest at the parliament building in Wellington, or write letters, and not risk your safety in this way?”
She shook her head. “Sergeant Frank, you don’t understand. The fight is too important to my people. The government confiscated that land to punish us for fighting against them, but how could we not fight when it was our land they wanted?”
“I think I understand how you feel,” said Frank. “But should your mother be leaving a young boy to run wild while she’s off taking part in a protest?”
“Hohepa loves Mette,” she said, looking down at Hohepa. “Couldn’t you…?”
“Once this mess is sorted out he can come and live with us,” said Frank. He knew Mette wanted to help Hohepa, but wasn’t sure how much he could commit to. What would the army think if he took in the child of a rebel? Maori often sent children to live with other family members, but the only instance he knew of a European adopting a Maori child was the boy kidnapped during the war and adopted by Sir William Fox, the ex-premier.
“I love Mette as well,” said Wiki. “Do you know what a good person she is, Sergeant Frank?”
“I know I’m not good enough for her,” said Frank, feeling he was on safer ground.
; “Of course you are,” said Wiki. “She needs you, you know she does. But you’re a warrior, and she isn’t. She can be a brave person when she needs to be…”
“She’s been very brave over the last few days,” he said.
Wiki gave him a sideways look. “She didn’t tell you, did she? I thought she would…”
“Tell me what?”
“I escaped from the train…”
“I heard about the escape. Inspector James from Wanganui - he’s down here from Wanganui checking into gang activity in the racing world - he said they weren’t going to look for you…but what’s that got to do with Mette being brave?”
“I went to your farm and she came out to the soddy with the rabbit gun to save Hemi. She thought someone was in there with him…”
He frowned over at Mette, with her arm covering Hohepa protectively. “How did she come to have the rabbit gun? I gave it to Hemi. He was supposed to take care of her.”
Wiki shrugged. “I dunno. But she had it, and she kicked the door in and pointed it at me. Me and Hemi weren’t scared, but she was shaking. I think she thought she’d have to shoot someone. And I asked her if I could borrow Copenhagen and ride her to Motuiti, and she said you’d be mad at all of us if she did. So she said she’d take me in the pony trap instead.”
“All the way to Motuiti?” asked Frank, horrified.
“Just as far as Feilding. There was a coach leaving from there for the races in Foxton. She got a ticket for me. She had some money…”
“From the sale of her books,” said Frank, remembering how Hop Li had suggested she save it for something important. Apparently she’d taken him at his word.
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