At the door to the parlour he paused, recognising the odour of burned flesh mingling with the dusky scent of smoke. He’d had his fill of burn injuries in the war. Guns exploded, burning buildings … it never ended well. The human body simply didn’t cope with fire.

The miners who’d brought the man stood by the door, hats in hand.

‘Where’d you find him?’ Caleb asked, glancing at the blackened body lying on one of Yorkie’s tables, covered in a blanket.

‘He stumbled into the camp before first light this morning.’ The man shook his head. ‘He’s bad, doc.’

‘Did he say anything?’

‘Just that he got caught in the fire and hid in a hole. Probably a wombat hole.’

Caleb slapped the man on the shoulder. ‘Go and get some rest. You look done in.’

The miner handed Caleb the singed remains of a heavy woollen jacket. ‘He was carrying this. Would’ve been better if he’d been wearing it.’

Posy already waited at the table beside the man with a bowl of water and clean cloths.

Caleb set the jacket to one side, washed his hands with carbolic and forced himself to look down at the patient. The face, which gives a man his humanity, had been scorched by the fire, and his hair burned away leaving only raw, red scalp.

A cursory examination told him all he needed to know. The burns the man had suffered were extensive and deep. The man’s eyes opened, scarlet slashes in the ravaged face, and Caleb drew a ragged breath, his suspicions confirmed.

‘Did you think I was dead?’ Richard Barnwell whispered.

Caleb looked up at Posy. ‘Leave us, Posy.’

The girl frowned. ‘But—’

‘I’ll call you when I need you.’

The door clicked behind Posy and Caleb turned back to the dying man. ‘You may not be dead yet, Barnwell, but you will be. There’s nothing I can do to save you.’

‘I know that.’

Finding the vial of morphine and the syringe busied Caleb’s hands and calmed his mind.

Barnwell’s eyes followed every movement, the blue of those eyes, so like Danny’s, already dimming. ‘You can ease my way,’ he said.

Caleb stopped and looked down at him. ‘All I can do is ease your suffering in this world. It’s for God to ease your way to the next.’ He flicked the syringe and administered the drug, watching the pain fade from the Barnwell’s features.

‘Bloody horse threw me. I lost my way in the smoke … the rest you know …’

Barnwell closed his eyes as the morphine began to take effect. ‘I want to see her, Hunt. Adelaide … I want to tell her I’m sorry.’ The bloodshot eyes opened again and the man’s clawlike hand grabbed at Caleb’s sleeve. ‘Would you do that for me?’