“I showed a man my fairy garden and then he got very sick,” Ruby said.

Hazel cringed. It hadn’t occurred to her that Ruby would blurt it out.

“Did he? And is he all better now?” Dunne asked.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Oh dear.” He looked up at Hazel, seeking explanation.

“Yes. It’s . . . a long story.” Her heart quavered in her chest. “I’ve got the horse and buggy. I thought we might take a picnic to Mount Wellington. Would that be nice?”

“Very nice,” he said.

“In Melbourne there’s talk of ending transport altogether,” Dunne said. “Lots of newspaper editorials. It doesn’t look good in the eyes of the rest of the world.” They were sitting on a large flat rock, the picnic spread out around them. The wind from the sea was warm on their faces and the trees were lush and green. Eagles dipped and soared; low-hanging clouds puffed in the sky. Below them, long swells frothed into sandstone rocks as white as bone.

“Do ye think it will happen?” Hazel asked.

“I do. It must.”

Children and grandchildren of the early convicts were settled citizens now, he said. The place was becoming almost respectable. “It would be wise for Britain to remember the rebellion of the American colonies before they lose what goodwill they’ve got left,” he said.

Hazel gave him a distracted smile. Go slow, she thought. Ease into it. But that wasn’t her style. When Ruby slid off the rock in search of sticks to build a fairy house, Hazel turned to him. “I need to tell ye what happened.”

“Oh—yes,” he said, sitting back. “The man who got sick.”

She took a breath. “Danny Buck was in the garden with Ruby when I returned from the wharf ten days ago. He had a knife. He said he would kill her, and he threatened to rape me.”

His eyes widened. “My god. Hazel.”

“Ye know that bush by the front step?” she said, forging ahead. “Angel’s trumpet, it’s called.”

“The one with pink flowers.”

“Yes. The sap is toxic. Too much of it is fatal.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It is. And—anyway—it was.”

He looked in her eyes. “It was.”

“Yes.” When he didn’t respond right away, she added, “We called the police, and they took him away. The plant is a narcotic; overdoses aren’t unusual.”

“I see.” He exhaled through his nose. “My god,” he said again.

For a few moments they sat in silence, watching Ruby in the distance as she snapped tiny sticks in half and arranged them in piles. Was he horrified? Appalled? She couldn’t guess. “I don’t . . .” Hazel paused, picking her words carefully. “I don’t regret it.”

Dunne nodded slowly.

“I’m relieved he’s gone.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Look. I actually think you were . . . that was . . . incredibly brave. You saw what you needed to do, and you did it. You saved your life, and Ruby’s. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there.”