“May the devil fly away with her!” said Jim savagely,“for a bad-minded, bad-hearted jade; and then he’d wish he’d left her where she was. She’d be no chop-down there even. I think some times she can’t be Jeanie’s sister at all. They must have changed her, and mothered the wrong child on the old woman. My word! but it’s no laughing matter. What’s to be done?”

“There’s no going away by the coach to-morrow, I’m afraid. She’s just the woman to tear straight up the camp and let it all out before her temper cooled. It would take a week to do that. The sergeant or Sir Ferdinand knows all about it now. They’ll lose no time, you may be certain.”

“And must I leave without saying good-night to Jeanie?” says Jim. “No, by--! If I have half-a-dozen bullets through me, I’ll go back and hold her in my arms once more before I’m hunted off and through the country like a wild dog once more. If that infernal Kate has given us away, by George, I could go and kill her with my own hand! The cruel, murdering, selfish brute, I believe she’d poison her mother for a ten-pound note!”

“No use swearing at Kate, Jim,” I said; “that won’t mend matters. It’s not the first time by a thousand that I’ve wished I’d never set eyes on her; but if I’d never seen her that day on St. Kilda beach you’d never known Jeanie. So there’s evens as well as odds. The thing is, what are we to do now?”

“Dashed if I know, I feel stupid about tacking the bush again; and what can I do with Jeanie? I wish I was dead. I’ve half a mind to go and shoot that brute of a woman and then myself. But then, poor Jeanie! poor little Jeanie! I can’t stand it, Dick; I shall go mad!”

I thought Jim was going to break out crying just as he used when he was a boy. His heart was a big soft one; and though he could face anything in the way of work or fighting that a man dare do, and do two men’s share very like, yet his tears, mother said, laid very near his eyes, and till he was a grown man they used to pump up on all sorts of occasions.