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Updated: May 21, 2025
Bridget made no pretence of breakfasting. She told Maule to forage for himself, and, after swallowing a cup of coffee, made the excuse of household business to see if the Chinaman had put up his master's lunch if the water-bags were filled what were to be the proceedings of the day. She had a hope that McKeith might say something conciliatory to her before he left.
The time went with startling rapidity. The two were borne on the tide of Colin's wild elation and Bridget's more impersonal enthusiasms. They were like travellers steaming through strange seas, not knowing what they were going to find at the end of the voyage and too excited to care. That was the way of Bridget O'Hara, but it was not the way of Colin McKeith.
Thinking of him in this way, Lady Bridget felt that in time she might come to care a great deal more for Colin McKeith. He caught up her last words. 'Yes, I know that you WANT to love me Biddy, and I hope with all my heart and soul that you will or else he broke off, his face darkening. 'Or else what? 'I don't know. It would be hell. I can't think such a thing at this moment.
Indeed, the silence and solitariness of the once busy head-station had enticed many of the shyer kinds of birds from the lagoon and the forest. Listening, as he now was, intently, McKeith could hear the gurgling COO-ROO-ROO of the swamp pheasant, which is always found near water and likewise rare sound the silvery ring of the bell-bird rejoicing in the fresh-filled lagoon.
'Sure, and it's by accident intoirely, answered Biddy, with a whimsical look and the touch of the brogue she sometimes put on when a situation became embarrassing. 'A prearranged accident! 'No it wasn't, Joan. As a matter-of-fact, we were the last persons either of us expected to meet. 'Honour bright, put in McKeith.
It was all entirely satisfactory. She wove a halo of romance round Colin McKeith, and, after reading her laudation of him, and her description of Bridget's send off, old Lady Gaverick and the impecunious Chris and his wife declared to each other that Biddy had done as well for herself as the family had any reason to expect.
'I guess that Lady Bridget would be better pleased if she wasn't handed over to a rough bushman. 'Now, there you ARE quite out of it, laughed the aide-de-camp. 'Lady Bridget asked specially to be sent in with you, and at Mrs Gildea's enquiring smile, he explained once more: 'Sir Luke was speaking about Mr McKeith, said his name had been mentioned at a meeting of the Executive yesterday.
You'll be tired my dear and you must be feeling strange, he added kindly. 'I'll go and have your traps brought up and leave you to fix yourself. I want to see one or two chaps and find out whether my drays are down as far as Fig Tree for stores and what's going on up along the Leura. Bridget noticed that the change in McKeith seemed yet more accentuated.
A muffled growl, something like the sound a hunted beast might make when the dogs had got to touch of him, came from McKeith. Again he stiffened himself; his lips hard pressed; his eyes on Harris' face. The Police Inspector avoided his gaze; but he too was watchful. 'You see I was thinking of my prisoner, and wondering if there could be anything afoot about him.
The gully crossing lay below the boulders of rock at the head of the lagoon. Presently, two horsemen appeared on the rise. One was McKeith; the other Harry the Mailman otherwise the Blower a foxy, browny-red little man on a raw-boned chestnut, carrying his mail-bags strapped in front and at the side of his saddle. Lady Bridget supposed they had met at the turn-off track just above the crossing.
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