BROCKLEBANK'S TENT. A TALE OF UNFOUNDED ACCUSATION.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 107, 26 February 1870, Page 7

BROCKLEBANK'S TENT. A TALE OF UNFOUNDED ACCUSATION.

IN FOUR CHAPTERS.

Chapter IV. and Last.

We had reached the Camp, and Langford had begun to narrate to the policesuperinteadent on duty there a circumstantial account of the supposed robbery, and was pointing out the painful suspicion which .was attached to myself, when the clatter pf a horse's hoofs was heard, and a moment later we saw Mrs. Langford, with her hair streaming in the wind from under her bonnet, and a heightened colour in her cheeks, can* tering towards the police-bai'racks. She was evidently a practised horsewoman, for she was seated calmly and securely feminine-fashion on a masculine saddle, with one foot in the stirrup, and the other one resting gracefnlly on her steed's shoulder. "John, my. dear," she exclaimed breathlessly, as she stopped her horse and alighted without assistance, " Adamson wanted to ride old Jack, but I wouldn't let him. I determined to bring the good news myself. Mr. Parker is innocent. The parcels of gold are all right." "All right?" cried Brocklebank. " How can that be ?" "Why somebody — yourself I suppose, Mr. Brocklebank — had folded two packets into one parcel. This\has been done in two instances ; so that what we took for two packets, according to the label outside, were really four." "I'm confident I never did so," answered Brocklebank almost angrily. I need not describe the joyous leap which my heart gave as I listened to this most welcome intelligence. It is enough to say that everybody present crowded round me and shook me warmly by the Land: When I say everybody, Ido not mean Mr. Fry. I am not sure that lie was not rather disappointed ; he certainly looked sourer than ever, but he had the civility to blurt out — " Your well out of it, Parker." As we returned to Iron Bark Gully, the rain ceased, and the sun shone out gloriously, as if to celebrate my restoration to innocence ; and a couple of hours later, Langford and his mates having temporarily admitted me to membership in them digging party, I was busily engaged in shovelling washdirt into the hopper of their cradle» And now for the conclusion of my tale, which may appear somewhat surprising, but which I assure the reader is strictly ti ue, as are all the main facts of this narrative. I have altered the names of persons, but otherwise my story is a story of real facts, and some of those who were working in Iron Bark Gully in 1852 may possibly read this article, and be able to attest the truth of its statements. I had worked very pleasantly and amicably for some days in Langford ! s 'party, sharing Adamson 's tent at night, when one evening Brocklebauk took me aside, and told me that he Avished to say a few words to me privately. I had seen very little of him since the supposed robbery ; I had fancied^that he rather avoided me, and not only me but all his former acquaintances. He no longer came out, as before, to gossip at the community-fire which burnt before his establishment, but as soon as business was concluded he shut himself in his store, and remained invisible till morning. When he took me aside that evening, I was struck with the altered expression of his countenance. His face* was flushed, and there was a wild unsteady light in his eyes. I should have supposed that he had been drinking, but that I knew him to be a strict teetotaller, and that there was not a drop of intoxicating fluid in any of our tents, for in 1852 all spirit-selling on the diggings was carried on clandestinely, and- vtis therefore shunned by such steady respectable folks as most of our neighbours were. " My dear friend," said Brocklebank,. taking me by the hand, " I have never been able to forgive myself the misery you underwent. The thought has haunted me day and night " " Don't say anything more about it now," I entreated. " You begged my pardon the other day until I was quite ashamed. It was, I dare say, a wholesome lesson for me. I shall have more pity for other supposed criminals in future." "Not," pursued Brocklebauk musingly, as if in soliloquy, " that I am personally responsible for ymir sufferings. That crime lies at other men's doors." I did not comprehend this last observation, but he- proceeded to say — " And now I am going to beg a favour — a favour which I scarcely venture to ask of you after what you have undergone. I want you to sacrifice a night's rest, and keep watch in my tent to-night. I have received information," he added, sinking his voice to an impressive whisper, " that, to-night my store is to be attacked and plundered. I have plenty of arms. • Will you come, Parker V " I shall be delighted," I said, warming at the prospect of an adventure in which I was more likely to play the part of thief-taker than thief. " But wouldn't it be well to tell Langford, Adamson, and the others, so as to have a strong party here to meet the scoundrels?" "No, no," he said mysteriously, grasping me by the wrist, "on no account Don't say a word to them. I

will tell you why to-night." "I could not, however, keep the duty which I had undertaken to fulfil altogether a secret, for I was obliged to tell Langford and Adamson that I was going to sleep in Brocklebank's tent. " Mercy on the lad !" cried the old ' Scotsman. " "Why I should hae thocht ye'd had eneuch o' Brocklebank's tent by this time. What does he want wi' ye?" "He wants me for company. He's rather nervous," I answered evasively. "There's something queer about Brocklebank," observed Langford. "He has grown very silent and very strange during the last few days. I hope he isn't going to stop payment. There are twenty ounces of our hard-earned gold in his hands." " Nae fear o' that," answered Adamson. With these words he lighted his pipe, and whistling to his dog, stalked forth gun in hand, to look after a chance opossum. " Well, Parker," said Langford, « I suppose you'd better go, but for goodness' sake don't get into another mess." | " I think there's no fear of that," I replied laughingly. " I don't like Brocklebank quite as well as I did," observed my mate — "there's a curious suspicious look in his eyes, and he sometimes scowls at me as if I had committed a crime." With these woi'ds our conversation terminated, and soon after I went into the Royal Liver Store for the night. ! Brocklebank was sitting on a flourI barrel, reading a book by the light of a solitaiy candle. The flushed and ex- j cited look which had characterised his face earlier in the day had quite disappeared : his manner was calm, de- I liberate, and business-like. After what he had told me during our late interview^ I was not surprised to see a capped and loaded revolver lying by his side, although I had been given to j understand by Langford and others that our part of the diggings was almost as i free from crimes and violence as an -English country villiage. Howevei*, he made no allusion to the weapon at his side, and for a considerable time we sat conversing on various topics unconnected with the business for which I had visited his tent. By degrees the sounds produced by European civilisation became fainter ; the last digger discharged the contents of his gun or pistol previous to j-eloading it ; even the clogs began to grow sleepy, and Australian Nature reasserted her rfiign in the melancholy moping cry of the morepoke, or Southern owl, and the ceaseless chatter of the bull-frogs in an adjacent swamp. Then Brocklebank, quietly closing his book, and laying his hand upon his revolver, addressed me thus :—: — " I have this day received information of a most startling character." " Indeed !" " You saw me talking to Superintendent Roberts, did you not V " I don't know Superintendent Roberts," I returned. " No, I forgot, you are a new chum. Well, Roberts gave me some very valuable information. You will be astonished, as I was, when you hear it. We are living, Mr. Parker, in a den of thieves and murderers-" " T have always understood," I replied, " that there are a great many bad characters on the diggings, but — " " I am not speaking generally : I allude to .our own immediate neighbourhood — our own so-called acquaintances and friends. I will begin with Fry." " Fry ! I though you knew his family in Liverpool, and that his father was a highly respected horse-dealer there ?" " So I believed, but I was mistaken. Fry is a thorough-paced villain. He has already been twice convicted of bui'glaiy." " Good heavens ! Can this be true ?" " I have all the documents to prove my assertions tied up in this bundle," continued Brocklebank, in the most business-like tone. <w As for that old Scotchsman, Adamson " . " Adamson ! I should have believed him to be a most worthy old fellow." "Mr. Pai'ker, you are very young, and appearances are deceitful. Adamson is a desperate character, an escaped prisoner from Port Arthur, a monster stained with innumerable crimes. But the Langfords, in spite of their plausable outward aspect, are the worst wretches of all. From their earliest years they have pursued a career of — Hark !" he exclaimed springing to his feet, and grasping his revolver, " they are coming now." He pointed his weapon towards the four corners of the tent, and continued, " They are coming from north, east, south, and west." As he spoke his face changed, his eyes glittered with the baneful glare of insanity. I once more beheld the terrible figure which I had believed, to be the offspring of a brain oppressed with nightmare, but which I now perceived, too plainly, to be a sad reality. Brocklebank's exclamations were not altogether based on delusion. Rapid footsteps were without doubt approaching the tent, for the bull-dog began to growl ominously. A moment later I heard a well-known voice saying,= — "Down, Boxer; don't you know us, old fellow?" " It's Langford," I remarked, in an explanatory tone, being convinced by this time that Brocklebank was labouring under some unaccountable delusion. The words were scarcely out of my mouth, when he uttered a sharp cry of

anger, and suddenly seizing me by the collar, flung 'me on my knees. The next instant I saw the muzzle of his revolver pointed at my head. " Parker," he shouted, " you are a traitor, a traitor and a villian ; you are in league with the rest of the gang. I mxist kill you !" My chances of escape would have been small, for the whole of this terrific scene had been enacted in a few seconds ; but at that critical moment, when the homicide's hand was on the trigger, the frail canvas door of the tent was thrown open, and Langford and Adamson burst in. Langford immediately threw himself on Brocklebank, while Adamson seized the wrist of the murderous hand which held the revolver. The shot, which a few minutes earlier would assuredly have penetrated my brain, passed harmlessly through the roof of the tent. After a brief struggle the unfortunate maniac, for such I now plainly perceived him to be, was secured. Langford lost no time in communicating with Melbourne, where Brocklebank, who had been settled for several years in the colony, had many friends, who held him in high estimation. We afterwards learnt that, some years before, when at home in Liverpool, he had shown symptoms of mental derangement, but that he had apparently been perfectly cured. The doctors recommended him, on his recovery, to seek a totally new sphere of action, and he had accordingly emigrated to the southern hemisphere. Since his arrival in Victoria no one hud detected in hini any traces of insanity, but the seeds of that fell malady had evidently only lain dormant, and had suddenly spiung up in full vigour. A few days later, after a careful medical examination, the poor fellow was removed from Iron Bark Gully to the lunatic asylum at the Ynrra Bend, near Melbourne. I am not aware what became of him subsequently. It was doubtless in the confusion of mind common in cases of approaching insanity, that he had forgotten where he had placed the two parcels of gold. As for myself, I shortly afterwards heard news of my London friends who came out by the John Taylor, but found that neither of them was a suitable companion for one who was determined to serve a steady apprenticeship to the trade of gold-digging. Hard manual labour did not suit them ; they only stayed tln*ee weeks on the diggings, and then gave up the profession in dis gust. They afterwards obtained more congenial occupations, the one as assistant in a ready-made clothes mart in Great Burke-street, the other as advertisement collector to a Geelong newspaper of limited circulation. I was, therefore, content to remain in company with Langford and Adamson. I worked for twelve months with them, and could not possibly have fallen in with pleasanter or more trustworthy companions. None of us, however, made our piles at gold-digging. We toiled steadily and perseveringly ; we seldon sank a hole that had not some gold in it, yet, on reckoning up our earnings at the end of the year, we found that we had prospered about as well as "Victorian day labourers in constant employment, that is we had earned about ten shillings a day apiece. Notwithstanding this comparative ill-suc-cess, I shall always recollect with satisfaction the time I spent on the Bendigo goldfield, for I laid in a stock of vigorous health and self-reliance, which are better worth having than a tin dish full of nuggets.