Not one sound of grief - not an outward sign to show how deeply the heart
was touched - escaped her. The busy neighbours left her for awhile, glad
though amazed at her wondrous calmness; when they returned to finish
their preparations for committing the child to its last resting-place,
the mother and her infant had disappeared.
Carrying the lifeless burden closely pressed against her bosom, as
though the pelting rain and chilling air could harm it now, Mary
rapidly left the town where she had experienced so much misery,
on - on - towards Geelong, the route her seducer and his pursuer had
taken - on - across Iett's Flat, until at length, weak and exhausted, she
sank down on the barren plains beyond.
Next morning the early dawn found her still plodding her weary way - her
only refreshment being a dry crust and some water obtained at an
halting-house on the road; and many a passer-by, attracted by the
wildness of her eyes, her eager manner, and disordered dress, cast
after her a curious wondering look. But she heeded them
not - on - on she pursued her course towards the Broken River.
Here she paused. The heavy winter rains had swollen the waters, which
swept along, dashing over the irregular pieces of rock that formed the
only means of crossing over. But danger was as nothing to her now - the
first few steps were taken - the rapid stream was rushing wildly round
her - a sensation, of giddiness and exhaustion made her limbs tremble - her
footing slipped on the wet and slimy stone - in another moment the
ruthless waters carried her away.
The morrow came, and the sun shone brightly upon the still swollen and
rapid river. Two men stood beside it, both too annoyed at this
impediment to their return to Melbourne to be in the slightest degree
aware of their proximity to one another. A bonnet caught by a
projecting fragment of rock simultaneously attracted their attention:
both moved towards the spot, and thus brought into closer contact they
recognized each other. Deadly foes though they were, not a word passed
between them, and silently they dragged the body of the unhappy
girl to land. In her cold and tightened grasp still lay the child. As
they stood gazing on those injured ones, within one breast remorse and
shame, in the other, hatred and revenge, were raging violently.
Each step on the road to Ballarat had increased her brother's desire
for vengeance, and still further was this heightened on discovering
that Stephens had already left the diggings to return to town. This
disappointment maddened him; his whole energy was flung into tracing
his foe, and in this he had succeeded so closely, that unknown to
either, both had slept beneath the same roof at the inn beside the
Broken River.
