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No, my dear Mahony, set your mind at rest and return to your wife. Lads of that sort never come to grief more's the pity! By the bye, how IS Polly, and how does she like life on the diggings?" In this connection, Mahony tendered congratulations on the expected addition to Turnham's family.
"What a picture!" he exclaimed. "What a picture! My love, I positively must carry out my intention of having you painted in oils, with the children round you. Mr. Mahony, sir, have you ever seen anything to equal it?" Though his mental attitude might have been expressed by a note of exclamation, set ironically, Mahony felt constrained to second Turnham's enthusiasm.
But he was glad Polly was just Polly, and not the peerless creature he had seen. John Turnham's fears would never be his this jealous care of a transient bodily beauty. Polly was neither too rare nor too fair for her woman's lot; and, please God, the day would come when he would see her with a whole cluster of little ones round her little dark-eyed replicas of herself.
They parted; and Mahony went back to twirl his thumbs in the hotel coffee-room. He could not persuade himself to take Turnham's advice and leave Johnny to his fate. And the delay was nearly over. At dawn next morning Johnny was found lying in a pitiable condition at the door of the hotel.
Various worries were pecking at him the hint he had given Polly of their existence seemed to have let them fairly loose upon him. Of course he would be he was suspected of having connived at the imposture by which his suit was won why else have put it in the hands of such a one as Ocock? John Turnham's soundless whistle of astonishment recurred to him, and flicked him. Imagine it!
So, one midday he called at Turnham's place of business in Flinders Lane, and was affably received by John, who carried him off to lunch at the Melbourne Club. Turnham was a warm partisan of the diggers' cause. He had addressed a mass meeting held in Melbourne, soon after the fight on the Eureka; and he now roundly condemned the government's policy of repression.
On Turnham's letter he, Ocock, would be prepared to borrow seven hundred for him and this could probably be obtained at ten per cent on a mortgage of the house; and a further four hundred, for which he would have to pay twelve or fifteen. Current expenses must be covered by the residue of this savings, and by what he was able to make.
After all, it was his house she had been a guest in. Such were the wheels within wheels. And thus it came about that, when the question rose of paving the way for John Turnham's candidature, Mahony drew the line at approaching Henry Ocock. John drove from Melbourne in a drag and four, accompanied by numerous friends and well-wishers.
None the less, he would not have belonged to the nation he did, had he not indulged in a caustic chuckle and a pair of good-humoured pishes and pshaws, at Turnham's expense. "Like a showman in front of his booth!" Then he thought again of the domestic scene he had been privileged to witness, and grew grave.
He thought no happier mortal than himself trod the earth. Mahony remained at the Hotel till the following afternoon, then walked to Geelong and took the steam-packet to Melbourne. The object of his journey was to ask Mr. John Turnham's formal sanction to his marriage. Polly accompanied him a little way on his walk.
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