It was past midnight when the lights of the homestead came into view;
but everywhere Billabong was up. The men were round the open gate of
the yard, from Andy Ferguson, the tears running unheeded down his old
face, to Lee Wing, for once without his wide benevolent smile, and in
the background Lal Chunder's dark face. Beyond them was Mrs. Brown,
with the pale-faced girls behind her. There were a score of willing
hands to bring David Linton into his home.

A little later Jim came out to where Norah waited in the hall, a little
huddled figure in one corner of a leather armchair.

"He's quite comfortable," he said; "hasn't spoken, but the doctor says
it's a natural sleep, and Brownie and he are going to sit with him. Old
kiddie, are you awfully tired?"

"I'm not tired one bit!" said Norah, with no idea that she was not
speaking the exact truth.

"H'm!" said Jim, looking at her. He went into the dining-room,
returning a minute later with a glass of wine.

"You're to have this," he said authoritatively, "and then I'm going to
put you to--"

He broke off, looking at her with a little smile on his tired face.
Norah had put her head down on the arm of the big chair, and was fast
asleep.

CHAPTER XX

MATES

The sleepy river murmurs low,
And far away one dimly sees,
Beyond the stretch of forest trees,
Beyond the foothills dusk and dun,
The ranges sleeping in the sun.
A. B. PATERSON.

Autumn was late that year at Billabong, and the orchard trees were
still green, though a yellow leaf showed here and there in the Virginia
creeper, as David Linton lay on the verandah and looked out over the
garden. From his couch he could see the paddock beyond, and here and
there the roan hides of some of his Shorthorns. They did not generally
graze there; but Jim had brought some into the paddock the day before,
remarking that he was certain his father would recover much more
quickly if he could see a bullock now and then. So they grazed, and lay
about in the yellow grass, and David Linton watched them contentedly.

From time to time Mrs. Brown's comfortable face peeped out from door or
window, with an inquiry as to her master's needs; but he was not an
exacting patient, and usually met her with a smile and "Nothing,
Brownie, thanks--don't trouble about me." Lee Wing came along,
shouldering a great coil of rubber hose like an immense grey snake, and
stopped for a cheerful conversation in his picture