That day week Gracey and I were married, very quiet and private. We thought we’d have no one at the little church at Bargo but George and his wife, the old woman, and the chap as drove me home. Just as we were going into the church who should come rattling up on horseback but Maddie Barnes and her husband—Mrs. Moreton, as she was now, with a bright-looking boy of ten or eleven on a pony. She jumps off and gives the bridle to him. She looked just the same as ever, a trifle stouter, but the same saucy look about the eyes. “Well, Dick Marston,” says she, “how are you? Glad to see you, old man. You’ve got him safe at last, Gracey, and I wish you joy. You came to Bella’s wedding, Dick, and so I thought I’d come to yours, though you kept it so awful quiet. How d’ye think the old horse looks?”
“Why, it’s never Rainbow?” says I. “It’s twelve years and over since I saw him last.”
“I didn’t care if it was twenty,” said she. “Here he is, and goes as sound as a bell. His poor old teeth are getting done, but he ain’t the only one that way, is he, Joe? He’ll never die if I can keep him alive. I have to give him cornmeal, though, so as he can grind it easy.”
“I believe she thinks more of that old moke than me and the children all put together,” says Joe Moreton.
“And why shouldn’t I?” says Maddie, facing round at him just the old way. “Isn’t he the finest horse that ever stood on legs, and didn’t he belong to the finest gentleman that you or anyone else looked at? Don’t say a word against him, for I can’t stand it. I believe if you was to lay a whip across that old horse in anger I’d go away and leave you, Joe Moreton, just as if you was a regular black stranger. Poor Rainbow! Isn’t he a darling?” Here she stroked the old horse’s neck. He was rolling fat, and had a coat like satin. His legs were just as clean as ever, and he stood there as if he heard everything, moving his old head up and down the way he always did—never still a moment. It brought back old times, and I felt soft enough, I tell you. Maddie’s lips were trembling again, too, and her eyes like two coals of fire. As for Joe, he said nothing more, and the best thing too. The boy led Rainbow over to the fence, and old George walked us all into the church, and that settled things.
After the words were said we all went back to George’s together, and Maddie and her husband drank a glass of wine to our health, and wished us luck. They rode as far as the turn off to Rocky Flat with us, and then took the Turon road.
“Goodbye, Dick,” says Maddie, bending down over the old horse’s neck. “You’ve got a stunning good wife now, if ever any man had in the whole world. Mind you’re an A1 husband, or we’ll all round on you, and your life won’t be worth having; and I’ve got the best horse in the country, haven’t I? See where the bullet went through his poor neck. There’s no lady in the land got one that’s a patch on him. Steady, now, Rainbow, we’ll be off in a minute. You shall see my little Jim there take him over a hurdle yard. He can ride a bit, as young as he is. Pity poor old Jim ain’t here today, isn’t it, Dick? Think of him being cold in his grave now, and we here. Well, it’s no use crying, is it?”
And off went Maddie at a pace that gave Joe and the boy all they knew to catch her.
We’re to live here for a month or two till I get used to outdoor work and the regular old bush life again. There’s no life like it, to my fancy. Then we start, bag and baggage, for one of George’s Queensland stations, right away up on the Barcoo, that I’m to manage and have a share in.
It freshens me up to think of making a start in a new country. It’s a long way from where we were born and brought up; but all the better for that. Of course they’ll know about me; but in any part of Australia, once a chap shows that he’s given up cross doings and means to go straight for the future, the people of the country will always lend him a helping hand, particularly if he’s married to such a wife as Gracey. I’m not afraid of any of my troubles in the old days being cast up to me; and men are so scarce and hard to get west of the Barcoo that no one that once had Dick Marston’s help at a muster is likely to remind him of such an old story as that of “Robbery Under Arms.”
Endnotes
Colophon
Robbery Under Arms
was published in 1883 by
Rolf Boldrewood.
Google
sponsored the production of this ebook for
Standard Ebooks.
It was produced by
David Grigg,
and is based on a transcription produced in 1998 by
Alan R. Light and David Widger
for
Project Gutenberg
and on a transcription produced in 2021 by
David Grigg
for Standard Ebooks
and on digital scans available at the
Internet Archive and at the National Library of Australia.
The cover page is adapted from
The Golden Splendour
