_ CHAPTER XLVI. A MARRIAGE, AND AN ELOPEMENT
In a few minutes we reached the mine. As there was no one in sight, the policeman concluded to give the signal at the entrance of the shaft that the owner was wanted, and as the mine was not very deep, we were not kept waiting any length of time for his appearance. The tackle for lowering and raising the miners was worked, and first the head and then the body of a man appeared in view.
"Here's two gentlemen--they want to see you, Mr. Henrets," the officer said.
"My name is Herrets," the miner said, "and why you will persist in calling me Henrets is beyond my comprehension."
"One name is as good as the other--what is the difference?--both begin with H and end with s."
We found that the officer's description of the man answered very well. His hair was sandy, his eyes were blue, and his skin was very fair and beardless. He was about five feet six inches, and not very stout.
Dressed as he was, in mining clothes, stained with many a stratum of earth, we could form but a poor opinion of his good looks, even had we been disposed to estimate his beauty before his understanding.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, addressing Fred and myself, in a tone that was intended to be excessively conciliatory.
"Before we answer that question we must ask one," Fred replied. "Were you ever an apprentice to a cordwainer in London?"
The man's face flushed scarlet, and he seemed extremely agitated at the question--but at length he replied,--
"I was an apprentice to a cordwainer, but my indentures were given up before I left England, sir."
"And your master had an only daughter, whose hand you demanded in marriage," Fred continued.
"Yes, but I meant nothing wrong; upon my word, gents, I didn't," he exclaimed, hastily, evidently considering Fred and myself in some way connected with the law, as we were under the guidance of a police officer.
"That remains to be seen," returned Fred, in a mysterious manner, evidently taking some delight in frightening the simple-minded young man all he could.
"O, I can tell you all about it," Herrets exclaimed with eagerness.
"That is unnecessary," Fred replied. "We know all, or nearly all; but what we wish to discover is, why you did not join the lady at Melbourne, as you promised in your letter?"
"Join the lady at Melbourne?" the young fellow repeated, hardly knowing what to say; "why, I wrote to her that if she would come to Australia I would pay her expenses, and marry her, besides. That was fair, wasn't it? But she didn't write me that she would come; so of course I thought that my hundred pounds were a dead loss, and that the girl had got another feller, which I don't call exactly fair; do you?"
We did not commit ourselves by any opinion, as we did not know but that some day it would be brought against us.
We formed an opinion, however, respecting the mental capacity of the youth, for whose sake the poor girl had wandered so many miles; and I no longer wondered that she saw a difference between her lover and Fred.
"Then you received no letter from Miss Purcel, announcing that she would sail on such a day, and requesting you to be on the lookout for her?" asked Fred.
"Of course I didn't," responded the young man, with commendable eagerness. "That is just what I am finding fault with."
"Then you will be rejoiced to learn that, after great suffering and privation, Miss Purcel has arrived, and is in Ballarat," Fred said.
The news almost deprived him of the power of articulation, and for a moment I thought that he would faint, but he didn't. He was too eager to see her, and welcome her to her new home.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Not far distant," Fred answered.
"Take me to her without delay," he cried; "I shall die with joy."
"Softly," replied Fred; "there are some things to be explained before we comply with your request;" and briefly he went over the girl's narrative, as told by herself, until he gave an account of her narrow escape from the hands of the miners who suspected her of stealing their dust.
The lover moaned piteously as he heard the hardships that his mistress had suffered; and after we had persuaded him to change his clothes and remove the stains from his skin, we let him accompany us on our return to the store.
"You must promise us one thing," I said, as we walked along, hardly able to keep up with the lover's impetuous strides, "that you will be married this very day."
I stole a look at Fred's face, but he appeared to approve of the plan, and I could see no traces of disappointment.
If the girl is not obdurate, I thought, I shall save Fred many unhappy days.
"O, I'm willing to agree to that," replied the lover, with a chuckle.
"You have the mean's to support a wife?" I asked.
"I've got money enough to support her after we are married. I've waited too long for her arrival to waste time with silly delays," he answered, earnestly.
"And you love her well enough to overlook all of her faults, if she has any, and to be a kind, affectionate husband?" asked Fred.
"Of course I do," ejaculated Herrets. "I ain't a particular man, by any means; and if she will only look out for my tent while I am absent, and have my dinner ready when I get home, we shall get along as happy as pigs."
I saw that Fred gave the man a look of intense disgust, and perhaps he also thought what chance of happiness a girl would have with a man who compared his matrimonial life with a pigsty.
"Your intended wife," I said, "has been well educated, and never known hardships or misery until she reached this country and you must carefully consider that she requires the society of her own sex to pass her time pleasantly so far from the land of her birth. You say that you have money enough to support her; then take my advice, and remove to Melbourne or Sydney, and enter into business, and where you can form new associations. The mines of Ballarat are no place for a young wife."
"O, I shall be company enough for her," he answered, carelessly, and with an air that plainly betokened that he considered I was meddling with things that did not concern me.
"You fool," I muttered, "stay here and you will be wifeless in less than a month. The girl will never be contented with such affection as you are disposed to give."
Not another word was spoken until we reached the store, and ushered Mr. Herrets into the room where the girl was seated. The latter looked up, smiled, but did not appear very enthusiastic or particularly overjoyed.
"Hullo, Molly," cried the lover, roughly, rushing frantically towards her, and throwing his arms around her neck; and in spite of a slight struggle, he succeeded in imprinting half a dozen kisses upon her cheeks and lips.
We noted that the interview was too interesting for us to witness, and we retired and left them together.
"Poor girl," muttered Fred, with a sigh; "what chance for happiness does she possess with a man whose education has been neglected, and whose manners have been blunted by a lengthy residence in the mines?"
"He is better than he appears," I replied, "and I have no doubt that they will soon understand each other's ways, and get along quite happily. We have no right to interfere."
"I think that we have. She is a _protegee_ of ours, and as such it is our duty to see lest she comes to harm. I think that I shall object to this marriage."
Confound it. I feared as much all the time, but I was not disposed to relinquish all hope of getting Fred from committing himself to such a course. I know that if my friend but gave the least encouragement to the girl she would repudiate her lover, and then I could readily foresee what would follow. Clergymen were not abundant at Ballarat, and Fred, I knew, had no thought of marriage.
I reasoned with Fred for a long time, and told him (God forgive me for the lie) that great affection existed between the parties, and that they were not disposed to show it before us, as we were comparatively strangers, and had no right to judge of their hearts or their heads; and at last I so worked on the mind of my friend that he readily accompanied me to the police office, where we were directed to a clergyman's, and with the reverend gentleman returned to the store, where our appearance created some surprise in the heart, at least, of one of the parties.
We insisted upon the girl's changing her clothes--the trunk which she spoke of having been found and taken to our place of business; and while she was doing so behind a screen of sail-cloth, we commenced making preparations for the wedding.
Mary presented an entirely different aspect when she appeared, dressed in her well-fitting garments; and although her face and hands were sunburned, and her manners were embarrassed, we did not fail to compliment her on her beauty, and to congratulate her on her near approaching nuptials.
"Let me speak with you for a moment," she said, turning to Fred just before the knot was tied.
Fred stepped a few paces from the group, and waited to hear her commands.
"When I made a promise to that man," she said, pointing to her lover, "I thought that I loved him. I was much younger than I am now, and knew but little of the world. Even when I reached these shores, I thought that my heart was entirely possessed by Mr. Herrets, and perhaps I should have continued to think so had not accident revealed to me what real love is."
Fred looked astonished and remained silent. He did not suspect the state of her heart.
"It would be unmaidenly," she continued, with a slight air of vexation to think that Fred remained cool, "for me to speak plainer, and if you cannot solve my meaning I must remain silent."
"I don't think that I understand you distinctly," my friend said, his face slightly flushing under a suspicion of her meaning.
"Do you wish to comprehend me?" she said, and her face was cast down while she asked the question.
Fred hesitated for a moment, and only for a moment. He glanced towards me and saw that I was watching the struggle that was going on in his mind, and his decision was instantly formed.
"We must not pursue this subject further," he said. "Believe me, it is better that we should not; for the sake of Mr. Herrets, and your own sake, do not ask me more questions."
"One word," she cried, hurriedly, as Fred turned away, and it seemed as though she could no longer control her emotion; "do you wish me to marry that man?" she demanded, with an earnestness that showed how much she had at stake.
"I do," he answered; and without waiting for another question he joined us.
The girl turned deadly pale, and for a few seconds was silent; but she rallied at length, and signified that she was ready to vow to love and cherish a man that I knew she had already commenced hating in her heart, and looked upon as the author of her misery. The clergyman, who was impatient to get his dinner, soon united the parties, and we saluted the bride.
"Let me go," she exclaimed, as her husband folded her in his rough embrace and covered her face with kisses. "Let me go, for I stifle in this place."
"Take your wife home," I said, "and be a kind husband to her. She will need all your care and attention."
They left the store, and I breathed a sigh of gratitude at the result. Fred's face, however, looked black and threatening, as though he was not entirely satisfied with his course.
"We have played a mean part in that marriage," he said, at length, "and I don't feel that I have acted justly. The girl detests her husband, and you know it."
"Of course I do," I replied, with great nonchalance; "but that is something she will outgrow in a few days, and if she does not he alone is to blame."
"I am not so sure of that," he replied, gloomily.
"Neither am I, but it will not affect your position or mine. We have done the best that we could, under the circumstances, to keep her honest, and I will ask you, in all candor, if she would have been virtuous ten days from hence had she lived under this roof?"
He did not answer me, but lighted his pipe and puffed away in silence.
"The girl liked you," I continued, "and you at length discovered it. She is not a suitable wife for you, and I think too highly of your honor to suppose that you would blast her prospects for life and make her your mistress. Your residence here is short, and when you felt disposed to return home, would you desire to present the girl to your friends as a specimen of Australian beauty? Come, Fred, consider all things, and remember that you cannot accuse yourself of her ruin, even if she is not disposed to remain with her husband."
"You are right," he said; "passion blinded me for a moment, but now I can see that, your advice is good. Let us talk no more on the subject, but hope for her happiness."
But we did talk on the subject frequently and earnestly; and as Mary's career was much as I supposed that it would be, I will follow it and give the reader the sequel.
Mr. Herrets removed his wife to his tent, and after the first week of his marriage paid but little attention to her comfort or her wants. A coldness soon sprang up between them, and then bitter quarrels ensued. The husband, while grasping for gold in the bowels of the earth, little thought that his neighbor was paying court to his wife, and that she received those attentions with eagerness. Women in Ballarat commanded a premium, for there were but few, and those principally of the lowest class. A few of the highest officers under government had their wives with them, but the husbands guarded them with more than Oriental jealousy, and it was a rare sight to see them in the street or at windows. There was little cause for wonder, then, that a man, whose good looks were a passport, should have ingratiated himself into the affections of Mrs. Herrets, and that one day they should leave Ballarat in company. We were in the store one afternoon, about a month after the marriage, when Mr. Herrets rushed in.
"Is she here?" he demanded, his face looking like a demon's.
"Who here?" I asked, calmly, although I suspected his errand.
"My wife," he shouted. "Darn her, I don't know where she is. She is playing some of her pranks, and I'll fix her for it."
He rushed out of the store frantically, and uttered a profusion of oaths as he dashed through the streets, making inquiries of every one that he met respecting his wife. Some laughed at him, while others, after questioning him until they had arrived at the facts, would gravely shake their heads, and express an entire ignorance of the woman's whereabouts. Herrets then made application to the police office, but was curtly informed that the police had something to attend to besides hunting after men's wives.
Desperate with rage, and vowing all sorts of vengeance upon the frail woman, the baffled husband once more sought our store and implored our aid. He even offered a considerable sum of money if we would unite with him and make search for her; but we refused his money, and declined for a long time to interfere, until at length his importunities caused us to yield, and after we extracted promises that he would be likely to keep, we concluded to help him.
We sent the young husband back to his tent, and bade him make arrangements to be gone at least two days, and to bring back with him some article of clothing that had belonged to the runaway. He obeyed our instructions, and by the time he had returned our three horses were saddled and ready for a start. We lost no time in getting under way, and in less than an hour we were seven miles from Ballarat, on the road to Melbourne, the nearest city that the runaways could reach. Sydney we considered as out of the question, for its distance of five hundred miles was not likely to attract travellers who were journeying for speed and flying for safety.
We pushed on, stopping only long enough to make inquiries of men on the road, and at length we got on the trail of the fugitives. They were travelling on horseback, like ourselves, but were mounted on worthless animals, that threatened to break down at every step; so we were told. The last farmer that gave us information said that he had spoken to them, and supplied them with bread, and that he did not think they were more than ten miles in advance of us.
This information gave us renewed life, and we spurred on until our horses were in a foaming sweat; and just as we began to think that the runaways had diverged from the beaten path, we caught sight of them riding along as leisurely, and with as munch independence, as man and wife.
Herrets rushed forward, and uttered oath after oath as he caught sight of his wife, while the latter applied her riding whip to the sides of her steed, in the vain endeavor to escape; but finding that we gained on her and her paramour, she suffered her horse to fall into a walk, and apparently took no further notice of us.
Not so with her companion, whose name was Delvin, a young and good-looking fellow; and had we not been present, he would have laughed at the demands of Herrets, for he was as bold as a lion, and was just the kind of a man that a romantic girl like Mary would take a fancy to.
"Villain!" shouted Herrets, presenting an old horse pistol, that looked as though it had seen service in the war of Cromwell, "stop, and account to me for the seduction of my wife, or I'll shoot you as you fly!"
"Shoot and be d----d!" replied Delvin, with a sneer; "but remember, I can use a pistol as well as you." And as he spoke, he drew from his belt a six inch revolver, and coolly waited for Herrets to commence hostilities.
This the latter was in no hurry to do, when he saw that his opponent was better armed than himself; so he checked his horse, and waited for us to come up.
We rode leisurely towards the runaways, and did not think it worth our while to make a show of hostilities, for while we had promised the husband to assist him, we did not consider that we were bound to fight his battles.
"Put up your pistol," said Fred, calmly, when we had reached the woman and her paramour; "there will be no use for it at present."
Delvin hesitated for a moment, and only for a moment; then, with an oath, he returned his pistol to its case, and waited our proceedings.
As for the woman, she appeared the most indifferent person in the group, and instead of being overwhelmed with shame, actually smiled at the expression of misery depicted upon her husband's face.
"We shall have to relieve you of your fair charge," Fred said, addressing Mr. Delvin; "civilization has hardly arrived at such a point in Australia that a man can run off with another's wife, and expect to escape punishment."
"The woman goes with me!" cried Delvin, fiercely, and his hand again sought his pistol; but seeing that we took no notice of the movement, he withdrew it slowly, and appeared undecided what to do.
"Of course, you are not in earnest when you speak thus," replied Fred, quite coolly; "you must be aware, if you enter Melbourne in company with this man's wife, and we are disposed to lodge information against you, that a long residence at the hulks would be your portion."
Delvin remained silent, but he looked as though he would like to try the issue of the affair with an exchange of shots.
"We have promised this man to help recover his wife, and we mean to keep our word. We have nothing against you, and therefore do not think it worth while to risk our lives exchanging shots; but Herrets, here--"
"Ah, then he can meet me," cried Delvin, eagerly.
"By no means," replied Fred, with great distinctness; "you have injured him sufficiently already, and it appears to me strange that the world should think a husband bound to demand reparation by receiving the contents of a pistol, and then consider that satisfaction has been accorded."
"Then you deny me a chance to satisfy the husband of this woman?" demanded Delvin, and his looks showed how eagerly he would have shot Herrets had he been allowed.
"Certainly we do, and we have a piece of advice to give you--don't return to Ballarat for a few months, or you might fare badly. The miners have a prejudice against people who run off with wives not belonging to them, and but little agitation would be necessary to serve you as men of your kind are served in California."
"May I ask now that is?" Delvin inquired.
"They are tried by Lynch law," was Fred's laconic answer.
The seducer glared at us as though he would like to encounter each individual singly, and I did not, know but that he would charge upon us, and risk the odds, great as they were.
"What have I done, Mary Ann, that you should run off and leave me?" cried Herrets, speaking for the first time.
His wife maintained a profound silence.
"Didn't I do all that I could to make you happy and comfortable?" he continued.
"No," she replied, with a defiant air, "you did not. You never spoke to me kindly, or asked if I was contented. I went to your tent with but little love for you, and now I have less. Did you seek to gain my affections, or to banish from my mind the image of a man that I felt I could die for?"
She looked hard at Fred, but the latter avoided her glance.
"I may have to go back with you, but I warn you that I feel only loathing and contempt for your home, for you, and every one in Ballarat."
We did not seek to check her, for we knew that her outburst of rage would end in tears, and we were not mistaken. She wept bitterly, and upbraided Fred and myself as the authors of her misfortunes; and even while she was lamenting her fate, we turned her horse's head in the direction of Ballarat.
Her paramour sat upon his animal sullen, and undecided what to do; and without stopping to exchange words with him, we commenced our journey homeward.
Even after we were miles distant, we could see him still motionless, standing upon the broad prairie, as though he had not determined upon what course he should pursue. But he never renewed his attempts on the virtue of Mrs. Herrets, and when next we heard of him he was in the mines of Bathney, where he was killed by the caving in of a shaft.
As for Herrets and his wife, they took our advice, and moved to Melbourne, where there was society and enjoyment. The husband went into business there, and became quite wealthy; and Mrs. Herrets was noted for her lively disposition and fondness of company. She became a patron of the Theatre Royal, and gave many a hungry actor a good dinner; and once, when I had run down to Melbourne from the mines, to transact a little business, she sent me a pressing invitation to visit the theatre, and witness her _debut_ in the "Honeymoon," she playing "Juliana," for the benefit of some actor who wished to insure a good house, and took that method to accomplish it.
I accepted the invitation, but did not consider her acting as likely to redound to the credit of the profession; and that is the end of the history, so far as my knowledge extends, of Mrs. Herrets and husband. _