shoot
you--besides, we can't."

Bessie was binding up his wrist, and Mrs. Warner, bending over it,
seemed to be giving her advice. The bushrangers had opened the case and
were knocking off the heads of the bottles and drinking the brandy out
of tea-cups, but the Mopoke looked over his shoulder almost as if he had
heard them, and briefly reminded them that he held Hollis responsible,
and that if any of them "sneaked off" he 'd shoot Hollis "an' make no
bones about it, for we ain't a-come here to be lagged."

"Nevertheless," muttered Hollis, "one of you must go--Bessie, I think.
They'll be mad with drink soon, and once drink's in them there's no
knowing what they 'll do to any of us--go, dear, go--"

"I can't, I can't." The girl's hands were trembling, as she bound her
handkerchief round his wrist, and the tears were in her eyes. Creep away
to safety and leave him to die--how could she!

He said again, "Go, Bessie, go, they'll never miss you; it's really our
only chance--you don't know what they'll do by and by."

"Lydia, you go." Bessie slipped her hand into Hollis's uninjured one and
held it tight. Even in his anxiety and misery he felt in her clasp, he
read in her eyes, a something that had not been there half an hour ago.
Oh, to be safe once more, to be free to woo and win her.

"I can't leave the children," said Mrs. Warner; "the Campbell girls are
no good, and besides, Tom wants you to go, don't you, Tom?"

He nodded. It was true enough; he was wild with anxiety to get her away.
He would risk his life gladly--thankfully lay it down, if only he could
be assured that Bessie was across the ranges safe in the Commissioner's
camp at Tin-pot Gully, and for the other women, their danger would be
the same whether she went or stayed.

Bessie clasped his hand tighter and leaned her face against his arm for
one brief second, while her stepmother went on.

"As soon as it's dark slip out, and I must try and keep them amused.
Dora can sing a little and I can play. Go straight across the ranges,
and if--and if--I mean, tell your father. Oh, Bessie dear, make haste."

She left them and joined the others, pausing a moment like a brave woman
to speak to the leader of the band, and so give Bessie a chance of a
last word with Hollis.

The sun had gone down now and darkness had fallen. The room was wrapped
in gloom, and Bessie mechanically watched her stepmother draw down the
blinds and light a couple of candles on the table