M'Guigan.

Evening Post, Volume LXX, Issue 37, 12 August 1905, Page 10

M'Guigan.

" We'll have- them yet, whoever tthey are." " I reckon it's some of your convicts." The first' 6peaker was a sergeant in, British uniform ; th©' second & pioneer, John M'Guigan. Tho time- -the year 1840, The place— Wollungong. " impossible •" th® sergeant in reply to M'Guigan's remark. "My beauties work on frne breakwater ,*nd the new Mullet Creek bridge all day, and at night are locked up and guarded. The worst are on tile chain-gang, and can't possibly get away. I see .to that" — with grim emphasis. " Don't know .vho could go it,, then, if it's cot an escaped convict," rejoined M'Guigan. " There aren't any — unless one has got away from Sydney. Some local thieves must do it." _ •' Nod they. The decent settlers wouldn't. The tew sneaks around might have the will, but not the grit. I know 'em all." 'M'Guigan took a long pull at the mug t before him, and as li& did so his com- , panion eyejl him curiously, and smiled. The sergeant was a fine figure of a nun, with black oyes, black mousfra-che, and black hair — the latter always damp and neatly brushed. 'His face was wellteaktred and strong. Tho >man was the picture of what a smart soldier should be, even to it'ho daily-shaven, face. And yet, -were he on the chain-gang instead of 'being its relentless master, tnab face might not have enlisted the sympathy of the passer-by. I The two men were sitting in a side roum of the Wollongong Inn. Tho open' dnor commanded & view of the street. Suddenly a little, woman, with a thin, thoughtful face, sharpened by ■care, cama into view, walking briskly Her month waa set tight, os nhe. .glanced towards, the inn door. " Hullo, there's Mother," 6aid M'Guigetn — whose other .name of John was pxaotiaally obsolete. He jumped up, and his appearance of prompt readiness to accompany "Mother" — otherwise his, wife — -had a suggestion of comic dismay in it that brought the vaguely unpleasant smile again to the sergeant's face. Mrs. * Guigan cama to the doorway, threw a half-glance at tho bottle and mugs on the table, and seeing the s«r> geant nodded stiffly. " Airs y* ready, M'Guigan?" said. she. " We'll bare get home before dark." " Coming, "Mother," replied her hushand. "Hand us the parcels." "Look out fo- the robber on the way homo," called out the sergeant. / "Just let me got him, that's all," laughed 'M'Guigan. " Let him come to this bosom, and let an© pab his curly 'cad for him." The' great, burly man strode away, his wife s small figure accompanying him with many steps. Seven miles lay between them -vnd their home, but vehicles in those days were few. " What a long time ye were, M'Guigan. r waited at the store til I was tired. An' whin ye got so bad the time tha drought broke up yo swore to me ye wouldn't touch another drop." " An' I meant it, Mother. But somehow the (Sergeant " " Oh, 1 know. It's always eomethin'. I could forgive ye whin the drought broke — I nea. wiirt foolish myself — but as for drinkin* because that nasty 6ergrant " " What's wrong with the sergeant, Mother?" " 5Te know I can't bide -him, if \l& only the way 'is hair's always flat an' damp — wettin' hia brush hn' brushin' at it." " Ain'.t he darK, an' handsome, on stoopid! What more does a woman. I want?" said M'Guigan, with a grin. " I don't like 'im," repeated his wife, and her lipa closed tightly, as if there were no more to be said. She was a woman of few words. ' n. One aftornoon some weeks lateT tha sergeant walked up to M'Guigan's door. M'Guigan was vchning beneath ma verandah, taking « .cirtj after a spell of hard work amongst his .potatoes. " Splendid lot of potatoes you'vo got, M'Guigan," said the sergeant, casting hia eyas on a pile thai awaited pitting "Isn't it? I'm going to sell the anosb of them next \v«ek, an' pit .the rest. Nobody round haa any but me. They all laughed when I hoed 'em into the

duet, but when the drought broke the people ihat laughed all got drunk ait my expense. I was about half-6tewed myself." The sergeant laughed. He had ]oined # in that drinking, and 'had helped lift M'Guigan into the friendly oart that took him horn& to> his wife. 1' Must be hard work, making a living on this bit of a place, though," said he. " It doesn't worry me," replied M'Gui-gan,-contentedly. "The missis worries for two." M'Guigan epoke truly. A splendid worker, kind-hearted, and unfailingly cheerful, he was, nevertheless, a confirmed spendthrift, and overfond of the cup when found in conjunction -with congenial company. His wife held the puTse, and did the thinking and planning for both. The struggle ; to make a living on their small holding, hold under clearing lease, had been accentuated "twofold during the recent three years' .drought. " Well, what's brought you out all this way?" queried M'Guigan, after his wife, with simple ' hospitality, had given the sergeant an acceptable* 1 drink. "There's been another -robbery," replded .the sergeant. " Old Astley was waylaid at the foot of Mount . Kenibla, coming home from Sydney, an' robbed of forty pound. The notes -were in the of his coat, too. Wo can't trace the robber at all. There was only one, Astley 6ays." , " Why don't you have out some of your soldiers?,' * - "So I do. ,It. isn'it iheir business, either. Their duty 'a to look after the convicts. Butj, I Jnave sent out patrols almost every nignt lately. The very night Astley «yns jobbed I 'had out.tAvo parties, but .they were both night away from the spot. '.The same (thing happened before. T 've,no Juck." "Does old Astley temember what the man was like? I s'poao it was .too dark !" " He says he was a big man, with a beard, i thought, as the .robbery was up this way, you might have dropped on to some clue.',' " I never even heard of .the thing. Wish I could drop -on to tine man." (M'Guigan stood ap, and stooped hio head to avoid a rafter. The sergeant looked him Up and down, and smiled approval. ".He'd have a bad lime. I wouldn't mind being the robber, just for the fun of waylaying you, M'Guigan," 6aid he. M''Guigan joyfully approved 1 of the idea. " I'd rather face you than your wife, though," continued the sergeant. " i wonder why she doesn't like me!" " Oh, ye, never ' know with women. Why, she likes me!" daid M'Guigan,, with a laugh that implied anything but disapproval of himself and his appearance. Soon afterwards, with a 'friendly forewell, the sergeant went on his way. in. • M'Guigan in due course 6old his potatoes. His neighbour, 'Maxwell, who pos> sessed six bullocks and a dray — a rare turnout in those days — took them into Wollongong for him. Mrs. M'Guigan did not accompany her husband, relying on his faithful promise to Tefrain from strong liqnoTs. One of her weaknesses was her unfailing belief that M'Guigau had reformed at last, and could be trusted ■to keep his promises. As, indeed/ he could, except when his own convivial na/turo stepped in, and led him most unwittingly astray. But the potatoes bought highest drought prices, and uM'Guigaa would have felt shamed for eve* had he not treated those with whom he dealt, and ithe friends who congratulated him upon the happy result of his own optimism,. An hour U'tet he formed the centre of an animated group in the Wollongong Inn, whose friendliness and jollity had blossomed like a flower under the aioisiuro supplied at his expense. The conversation turned on ithe bold individual whose deeds -bad (recently startled the district. "You'd better look out going -home to-night," said one of the men. M'Guigan flashed (two handfuk of money .from his pockets, and .roared genial d«fianc© to .the world at large. " Only "let the beggai come," he shouted " Don't be a fool, 'M'Gudgan," said the sergeant, who had come in a few minutes before. • " The man who has done these robberies won't, stick at much, I'm thinking. You keep your nionsy out of sight. He must have known about old Aetley having money, and you never know who may give him the tip, or be in with him. Half Wollongong knows you are flush, and Detter get, ' home before dark. That's my advice. " But M'Guigan would not be "advised, and called for more drinks, and tittered defiance. A good hour later the sergeant saw him off ;n; n the friendly neighbour's dray, ssated on a' box, a bottle of rum, and a •tin "pannikin beside him. "It's lucky you are going with Maxwell," said the sergeant, with a short laugh, and dragging his hand from the i long embrace of M'Guigan's .massive fiat. " He'll deposit you all -ight!" On the way homo M'Guigan insisted on stopping the team to treat passing friends, besides having a few additional pulls on his owji account. ' It was drawing towards night N when Mrs. M'Guigan heard a clattering outside the hut. She" opened the door, affd looked out. Thenre lay her husband, gazing at her queerly. Tho tin pannikin lay a yard or two before him. Tho remains of a shattered «ottle were scattered about. Maxwell stood near with a parcel in one hand, his shirt Dadly torn. Obviously he had been supporting M'Guigan. • Looking heartily ashamed, he set* the patcel down, and started to-Ava-rds his dray on, .the roadside, mut- i tuning something about " gettin' the ' rest of 'em." Mrs. M'Guigan looked fixedly at her husband for a -full minute. " Damn you, .M'Guigan," she said at last, slowly and deliberately. "Lishen, m'lovo," oegan M'Guigan thickly. " Indeed, I am your love," was tht reply in long-drawn notes of scorn. "•Help me up. I'jn down," said M'Guigan, with insinuating cheerfulness. "Down are ye! Lay there, then," answered his wife. M'Guigan beg.an to dwell on the bleasing that marriage had been to them both. "You'll miss my poot bald head when 1 go, mother." ho •cried. Then lie tried flattery with no lacK of skill. Utterly disregarding him and his honeyed remonstrances, his wife relieved the teamster of -the remainder of the parcels — purchased while M'Guigan was yet sober Thanidng Maxwell heartily, she said she would not trouble him further. 1e departed awkwardly and lingeringly, as if desirous of helping Vr, but not knowing how to breaK through her reserve. Having taken in all her goods, Mra. M'Guignn turned to her now sleeping husband, and with arms folded watched him for a moment. " Half o' the damn men wants 'anqing," sho murmured between her set teeth. Her eyes wandered towards a piece of green-hide rope which hung on the wall. She turned from it with a sigh. " Ye can't wallop a man whin yo loves 'im," sho half- whispered. With a skill born of long practice, •but, neverkhel<^s. with no TittU difficulty, sho pulled and lifted M'Guigan into the hut, and on to the low bed. As 6he *ixed him .comfortably she stooped, and gently brushed a thin lock from his broad brow.

! Then she searched his pockets, r and found what wa6 left of 'the nionoy — no inconsiderable sum to her. Night was falling rapidly, and a quite unwonted fit of nervousness seized her as she realised that she was the sole guardian of the money which was to help them through the yeary and of the senseless form which lay, breathing heavily, on the bed. Before dt was'quite dark, following her usual custom, she brought in all tools and household articles which chanced to he outside. The two windows weTe scarcely large enough to admit the bod;/ of a man. But as the darkness closed in she felt nervous about them, and -with hammer and nails boarded them up with no unpractised hand. ' , Then sho barred the door, and, though inclined io ridicule hereelf for so doing, piled such spare furniture as she had against it. I Her husband's gun, a heavy old flintlock, stood loaded in the corner. She cast an approving glance at it. Then she carefully hanked up <he remains of the fire— <mattfb.es were not 'then available on it'he South Coast, ( and flint and steel, with perhaps a sprinkling of gunpowder on the tinder, aro. poor substii tutes. Only -a week before, when her fira was swamped by a midnight (thunderstorm, had she carried a few live coals from Maxwell's homestead, two miles away, carefully protect^ in a billycan from the drizzling .rain. Having put all things in order,' and extinguished the light, sho sat on the bed beside her husband, and tried to reason away her fears. There was no thought of herself in them— apart from her native courage, ahe was long inured to scenes of difficulty iand danger. But she feared for her practically helDless husband, and the thought also of losing the money filled her with dismay. She knew, as well as is she had beard him, of M'Guigan'6 boasting in Wollongong. She, thought of her unshaken love for him, of his unfailing kindness, his limitless foolishness in some respects, and of her own long life of toil," and covering her thin fate with heT hands — hard, and out of shape witih labour that wao too heavy for her — she did what she had not done for many o. <i»y, yielded herself to a thorough good cry. Suddenly she fancied she heard a step, and listened with a beating heart. ohe v/as beginning to blame her own imagination, when the latch clicked softly, as- il raised by a stealthy 'hand, and she could tell that .the- door had 'been pushed hard. ,* Silently she pushed her husband, hut he -took no notice whatever. "■M'Guigan! M'Guigan!" ehe whispered eagerly in his ear, shaking him" again. Then the man outside softly tried one of the windows, and she listened with her ear dose to it. Once Jore oho shook ncr husband, and nibbed his ' face till his nose must j have been alrriost dislocated. A deep grunt was the only response. \ J The hut brembled as a ' powerful shoulder once more .pushed egainst the door. A pot lid fell with a sounding •crash on a bucket beneath, and Mrs. , M'Guigan sprang np, and pulled her husband fairly on to the floor. The door rattled under the heavy blows that were now directed against it, .for concealment was no longer attempted. " Open the door or it will he worse for you," said a high pitched voice outeidel * ' "I*ll shoot ye if "ye open the' door," cried a woman's voice from within. "Oh,/ none, o' that," from outside. "Ii you open the door and hand over the money you's got I won't harm you, I but if you' don't I'll cut the throats of ! both 'you an' your drunken husband, for all hid threats." ' . " You'll get no money, an' I won't open the door," was the prompt ie« sponsc. "You'll 'beeoTry if yon don't," said the voice outside^ "'M'Guigan brought .home the jnonejTwith him to-day, an' he's dead drunk inside, an' I mean to have it." She pitched a 'bucket of water over her husband's head, set him upon the 'floor, and boxed his ears soundly. "MTjUigan, you fool, M'Guigan, wake 1 up,"- she cried, cuffing him. . * "Lea" ane alone. Wha's up?" mut- ■ teTed M'Guigan, gazing round him bewildered. " Wake up, -we're bein' Tobbed," cried" his" wife. A heavy man clambered upon the roof of the nut, and powerful hands began tearing a cheat of bark off. Mrs. M Guigan put both hex anna ■round her partly - sobered husband, helped, or- rather lifted, him to a sitting posture on the bed, aad -put the gun into his hands. Then she turned her nead, and rested the gun-barrel over her shouliter."Shoot -when he comes in the openin'," she directed, trembling with excitement. A moment later a sheet of haTk waa torn off, and a dark body appeared. " I've got you now, and you'll suffer," said the man in the same hi^h pitched voice, .preparing to drop inside. There was a. loud explosion, a great scream from the roof, and a heavy body rolled down the bark, and fell with a ■ thud to the ground outside. Then all waa silent. " Oh, 'M'Guigan," said his wife shud^ deringly, "is he killed?" "Precious little odds if foe is," replied M'Guigan, who had almost recovered his senses. " I'll neve* forgit 'is scream," cried tho little woman, covering her lace with her hands. " Bun ye areivt hurt, are ye, •M'Guigan? I hope I didn't hurt ye," she added anxiously, looking up^ again. M'Guigan broke into a great »oar. "You're a- trump, mother, -an* I won't forget it, 1 * he said emphatically. "Let as get to the poor man," replied his wife. Five minutes 'later the blood-stained body of the would-bo rottber was laid on the bed in .the hut. A false beard had partly fallen off, and M'Guigan pulled it away. Then a great oath escaped him, and his wife stood with startled eyes. Tho tace was that of the sergeant. "Go for the doctor, M'Guigan. An' ■ it waa a accident, nothin' but a accident." M'Guigan stared at his wife in bewildered fashion, and passed a hand over his brow. ' "I tell ye go for the' doctor. And remember it was a accident," 6he, insisted. " Not a word about it, only as a accident. Oh, go, M^Guigan," sho almost implored. He stumbled away through the night, while his wife ousied herself about the unconscious sergeant. "The poor, silly boy — the strong, silly boy," she murmurfed.- " He" was so goodlooking too, X for all I m»; nave said. Aji* if his mother " but at the word she choked, and continued her ministrations in silence. ' The wounded man, thanks to unremitting care and to hia own wonderful strength and vitality, recovered after weary weeks. The shocking accident was a nine days' wolfder, and then became a memory only. For this strange thing happened— all the money and property taken in the' Ut* robberies was mysteriously restored to the owners, and Mre. M'Guigan went About with a b»ppy Kght, xv her «yes. Also heT nusband had been to Wollongong «gain and again, without drinking. And the great, strong sergeant was to her as a eon. Let no man speak ill of her in hia hearing, or • ! — Pi Heo« denoc, in the Aaatralasufij