MY FRIEND THE MURDERER

By A. Conan Doyle

"Number 481 is no better, doctor, " said the head-warder, in a slightlyreproachful accent, looking in round the corner of my door. 

"Confound 481" I responded from behind the pages of the _AustralianSketcher_. 

"And 61 says his tubes are paining him. Couldn't you do anything forhim?"

"He is a walking drug-shop, " said I. "He has the whole Britishpharmacopaæ inside him. I believe his tubes are as sound as yours are. "

"Then there's 7 and 108, they are chronic, " continued the warder, glancing down a blue slip of paper. "And 28 knocked off workyesterday--said lifting things gave him a stitch in the side. I want youto have a look at him, if you don't mind, doctor. There's 81, too--himthat killed John Adamson in the Corinthian brig--he's been carrying onawful in the night, shrieking and yelling, he has, and no stopping himeither. "

"All right, I'll have a look at him afterward, " I said, tossing my papercarelessly aside, and pouring myself out a cup of coffee. "Nothing elseto report, I suppose, warder?"

The official protruded his head a little further into the room. "Begpardon, doctor, " he said, in a confidential tone, "but I notice as 82has a bit of a cold, and it would be a good excuse for you to visit himand have a chat, maybe. "

The cup of coffee was arrested half-way to my lips as I stared inamazement at the man's serious face. 

"An excuse?" I said. "An excuse? What the deuce are you talking about, McPherson? You see me trudging about all day at my practise, when I'mnot looking after the prisoners, and coming back every night as tired asa dog, and you talk about finding an excuse for doing more work. "

"You'd like it, doctor, " said Warder McPherson, insinuating one of hisshoulders into the room. "That man's story's worth listening to if youcould get him to tell it, though he's not what you'd call free in hisspeech. Maybe you don't know who 82 is?"

"No, I don't, and I don't care either, " I answered, in the convictionthat some local ruffian was about to be foisted upon me as a celebrity. 

"He's Maloney, " said the warder, "him that turned Queen's evidence afterthe murders at Bluemansdyke. "

"You don't say so?" I ejaculated, laying down my cup in astonishment. Ihad heard of this ghastly series of murders, and read an account ofthem in a London magazine long before setting foot in the colony. Iremembered that the atrocities committed had thrown the Burke and Harecrimes completely into the shade, and that one of the most villainousof the gang had saved his own skin by betraying his companions. "Are yousure?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes, it's him right enough. Just you draw him out a bit, andhe'll astonish you. He's a man to know, is Maloney; that's to say, inmoderation;" and the head grinned, bobbed, and disappeared, leaving meto finish my breakfast and ruminate over what I had heard. 

The surgeonship of an Australian prison is not an enviable position. Itmay be endurable in Melbourne or Sydney, but the little town of Perthhas few attractions to recommend it, and those few had been longexhausted. The climate was detestable, and the society far fromcongenial. Sheep and cattle were the staple support of the community;and their prices, breeding, and diseases the principal topic ofconversation. Now as I, being an outsider, possessed neither the one northe other, and was utterly callous to the new "dip" and the "rot" andother kindred topics, I found myself in a state of mental isolation, and was ready to hail anything which might relieve the monotony of myexistence. Maloney, the murderer, had at least some distinctiveness andindividuality in his character, and might act as a tonic to a mind sickof the commonplaces of existence. I determined that I should follow thewarder's advice, and take the excuse for making his acquaintance. When, therefore, I went upon my usual matutinal round, I turned the lock ofthe door which bore the convict's number upon it, and walked into thecell. 

The man was lying in a heap upon his rough bed as I entered, but, uncoiling his long limbs, he started up and stared at me with aninsolent look of defiance on his face which augured badly for ourinterview. He had a pale, set face, with sandy hair and a steely-blueeye, with something feline in its expression. His frame was tall andmuscular, though there was a curious bend in his shoulders, which almostamounted to a deformity. An ordinary observer meeting him in the streetmight have put him down as a well-developed man, fairly handsome, andof studious habits--even in the hideous uniform of the rottenest convictestablishment he imparted a certain refinement to his carriage whichmarked him out among the inferior ruffians around him. 

"I'm not on the sick-list, " he said, gruffly. There was something in thehard, rasping voice which dispelled all softer illusions, and made merealize that I was face to face with the man of the Lena Valley andBluemansdyke, the bloodiest bushranger that ever stuck up a farm or cutthe throats of its occupants. 

"I know you're not, " I answered. "Warder McPherson told me you had acold, though, and I thought I'd look in and see you. "

"Blast Warder McPherson, and blast you, too!" yelled the convict, ina paroxysm of rage. "Oh, that's right, " he added in a quieter voice;"hurry away; report me to the governor, do! Get me another six months orso--that's your game. "

"I'm not going to report you, " I said. 

"Eight square feet of ground, " he went on, disregarding my protest, andevidently working himself into a fury again. "Eight square feet, and Ican't have that without being talked to and stared at, and--oh, blastthe whole crew of you!" and he raised his two clinched hands above, hishead and shook them in passionate invective. 

"You've got a curious idea of hospitality, " I remarked, determined notto lose my temper, and saying almost the first thing that came to mytongue. 

To my surprise the words had an extraordinary effect upon him. He seemedcompletely staggered at my assuming the proposition for which he hadbeen so fiercely contending--namely, that the room in which he stood washis own. 

"I beg your pardon, " he said; "I didn't mean to be rude. Won't youtake a seat?" and he motioned toward a rough trestle, which formed thehead-piece of his couch. 

I sat down, rather astonished at the sudden change. I don't know thatI liked Maloney better under this new aspect. The murderer had, it istrue, disappeared for the nonce, but there was something in the smoothtones and obsequious manner which powerfully suggested the witness ofthe queen, who had stood up and sworn away the lives of his companionsin crime. 

"How's your chest?" I asked, putting on my professional air. 

"Come, drop it, doctor--drop it!" he answered, showing a row of whiteteeth as he resumed his seat upon the side of the bed. "It wasn'tanxiety after my precious health that brought you along here; that storywon't wash at all. You came to have a look at Wolf Tone Maloney, forger, murderer, Sydney-slider, ranger, and government peach. That's about myfigure, ain't it? There it is, plain and straight; there's nothing meanabout me. "

He paused as if he expected me to say something; but as I remainedsilent, he repeated once or twice, "There's nothing mean about me. "

"And why shouldn't I?" he suddenly yelled, his eyes gleaming and hiswhole satanic nature reasserting itself. "We were bound to swing, oneand all, and they were none the worse if I saved myself by turningagainst them. Every man for himself, say I, and the devil take theluckiest. You haven't a plug of tobacco, doctor, have you?"

He tore at the piece of "Barrett's" which I handed him, as ravenously asa wild beast. It seemed to have the effect of soothing his nerves, forhe settled himself down in the bed and re-assumed his former deprecatingmanner. 

"You wouldn't like it yourself, you know, doctor, " he said: "it's enoughto make any man a little queer in his temper. I'm in for six months thistime for assault, and very sorry I shall be to go out again, I can tellyou. My mind's at ease in here; but when I'm outside, what with thegovernment and what with Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury, there's no chanceof a quiet life. "

"Who is he?" I asked. 

"He's the brother of John Grimthorpe, the same that was condemned on myevidence; and an infernal scamp he was, too! Spawn of the devil, both ofthem! This tattooed one is a murderous ruffian, and he swore to have myblood after that trial. It's seven year ago, and he's following me yet;I know he is, though he lies low and keeps dark. He came up to me inBallarat in '75; you can see on the back of my hand here where thebullet clipped me. He tried again in '76, at Port Philip, but I got thedrop on him and wounded him badly. He knifed me in '79, though, in a barat Adelaide, and that made our account about level. He's loafing roundagain now, and he'll let daylight into me--unless--unless by someextraordinary chance some one does as much for him. " And Maloney gave avery ugly smile. 

"I don't complain of _him_ so much, " he continued. "Looking at it inhis way, no doubt it is a sort of family matter that can hardly beneglected. It's the government that fetches me. When I think of whatI've done for this country, and then of what this country has done forme, it makes me fairly wild--clean drives me off my head. There's nogratitude nor common decency left, doctor!"

He brooded over his wrongs for a few minutes, and then proceeded to laythem before me in detail. 

"Here's nine men, " he said; "they've been murdering and killing fora matter of three years, and maybe a life a week wouldn't more thanaverage the work that they've done. The government catches them and thegovernment tries them, but they can't convict; and why?--because thewitnesses have all had their throats cut, and the whole job's been veryneatly done. What happens then? Up comes a citizen called Wolf ToneMaloney; he says, 'The country needs me, and here I am. ' And with thathe gives his evidence, convicts the lot, and enables the beaks to hangthem. That's what I did. There's nothing mean about me! And now whatdoes the country do in return? Dogs me, sir, spies on me, watches menight and day, turns against the very man that worked so very hard forit. There's something mean about that, anyway. I didn't expect them toknight me, nor to make me colonial secretary; but, damn it! I did expectthat they would let me alone!"

"Well, " I remonstrated, "if you choose to break laws and assault people, you can't expect it to be looked over on account of former services. "

"I don't refer to my present imprisonment, sir, " said Maloney, withdignity. "It's the life I've been leading since that cursed trial thattakes the soul out of me. Just you sit there on that trestle, and I'lltell you all about it, and then look me in the face and tell me thatI've been treated fair by the police. "

I shall endeavor to transcribe the experience of the convict in his ownwords, as far as I can remember them, preserving his curious perversionsof right and wrong. I can answer for the truth of his facts, whatevermay be said for his deductions from them. Months afterward, Inspector H. W. Hann, formerly governor of the jail at Dunedin, showed me entries inhis ledger which corroborated every statement Maloney reeled the storyoff in a dull, monotonous voice, with his head sunk upon his breast andhis hands between his knees. The glitter of his serpentlike eyes was theonly sign of the emotions which were stirred up by the recollection ofthe events which he narrated. 

*****

You've read of Bluemansdyke (he began, with some pride in his tone). We made it hot while it lasted; but they ran us to earth at last, and atrap called Braxton, with a damned Yankee, took the lot of us. That wasin New Zealand, of course, and they took us down to Dunedin, and therethey were convicted and hanged. One and all they put up their handsin the dock, and cursed me till your blood would have run cold to hearthem--which was scurvy treatment, seeing that we had all beenpals together; but they were a blackguard lot, and thought only ofthemselves. I think it is as well that they were hung. 

They took me back to Dunedin Jail, and clapped me into the old cell. The only difference they made was, that I had no work to do and waswell fed. I stood this for a week or two, until one day the governor wasmaking his rounds, and I put the matter to him. 

"How's this?" I said. "My conditions were a free pardon, and you'rekeeping me here against the law. "

He gave a sort of a smile. "Should you like very much to get out?" heasked. 

"So much, " said I, "that unless you open that door I'll have an actionagainst you for illegal detention. "

He seemed a bit astonished by my resolution. 

"You're very anxious to meet your death, " he said. 

"What d'ye mean?" I asked. 

"Come here, and you'll know what I mean, " he answered. And he led medown the passage to a window that overlooked the door of the prison. "Look at that!" said he. 

I looked out, and there were a dozen or so rough-looking fellowsstanding outside the street, some of them smoking, some playing cardson the pavement. When they saw me they gave a yell and crowded round thedoor, shaking their fists and hooting. 

"They wait for you, watch and watch about, " said the governor. "They'rethe executive of the vigilance committee. However, since you aredetermined to go, I can't stop you. "

"D'ye call this a civilized land, " I cried, "and let a man be murderedin cold blood in open daylight?"

When I said this the governor and the warder and every fool in the placegrinned, as if a man's life was a rare good joke. 

"You've got the law on your side, " says the governor; "so we won'tdetain you any longer. Show him out, warder. "

He'd have done it, too, the black-hearted villain, if I hadn't beggedand prayed and offered to pay for my board and lodging, which ismore than any prisoner ever did before me. He let me stay on thoseconditions; and for three months I was caged up there with everylarrikin in the township clamoring at the other side of the wall. Thatwas pretty treatment for a man that had served his country!

At last, one morning up came the governor again. 

"Well, Maloney, " he said, "how long are you going to honor us with yoursociety?"

I could have put a knife into his cursed body, and would, too, if we hadbeen alone in the bush; but I had to smile, and smooth him and flatter, for I feared that he might have me sent out. 

"You're an infernal rascal, " he said; those were his very words, to aman that had helped him all he knew how. "I don't want any rough justicehere, though; and I think I see my way to getting you out of Dunedin. "

"I'll never forget you, governor, " said I; "and, by God! I never will. "

"I don't want your thanks nor your gratitude, " he answered; "it'snot for your sake that I do it, but simply to keep order in the town. There's a steamer starts from the West Quay to Melbourne to-morrow, andwe'll get you aboard it. She is advertised at five in the morning, sohave yourself in readiness. "

I packed up the few things I had, and was smuggled out by a back door, just before daybreak. I hurried down, took my ticket under the nameof Isaac Smith, and got safely aboard the Melbourne boat. I rememberhearing her screw grinding into the water as the warps were cast loose, and looking back at the lights of Dunedin as I leaned upon the bulwarks, with the pleasant thought that I was leaving them behind me forever. It seemed to me that a new world was before me, and that all my troubleshad been cast off. I went down below and had some coffee, and came upagain feeling better than I had done since the morning that I woketo find that cursed Irishman that took me standing over me with asix-shooter. 

Day had dawned by that time, and we were steaming along by the coast, well out of sight of Dunedin. I loafed about for a couple of hours, andwhen the sun got well up some of the other passengers came on deck andjoined me. One of them, a little perky sort of fellow, took a good longlook at me, and then came over and began talking. 

"Mining, I suppose?" says he. 

"Yes, " I says. 

"Made your pile?" he asks. 

"Pretty fair, " says I. 

"I was at it myself, " he says; "I worked at the Nelson fields for threemonths, and spent all I made in buying a salted claim which busted upthe second day. I went at it again, though, and struck it rich; but whenthe gold wagon was going down to the settlements, it was stuck up bythose cursed rangers, and not a red cent left. "

"That was a bad job, " I says. 

"Broke me--ruined me clean. Never mind, I've seen them all hanged forit; that makes it easier to bear. There's only one left--the villainthat gave the evidence. I'd die happy if I could come across him. Thereare two things I have to do if I meet him. "

"What's that?" says I, carelessly. 

"I've got to ask him where the money lies--they never had time to makeaway with it, and it's _cachéd_ somewhere in the mountains--and thenI've got to stretch his neck for him, and send his soul down to join themen that he betrayed. "

It seemed to me that I knew something about that _caché_, and I feltlike laughing; but he was watching me, and it struck me that he had anasty, vindictive kind of mind. 

"I'm going up on the bridge, " I said, for he was not a man whoseacquaintance I cared much about making. 

He wouldn't hear of my leaving him, though. "We're both miners, " hesays, "and we're pals for the voyage. Come down to the bar. I'm not toopoor to shout. "

I couldn't refuse him well, and we went down together; and that was thebeginning of the trouble. What harm was I doing any one on the ship?All I asked for was a quiet life, leaving others alone and getting leftalone myself. No man could ask fairer than that. And now just you listento what came of it. 

We were passing the front of the ladies' cabin, on our way tothe saloon, when out comes a servant lass--a freckled currencyshe-devil--with a baby in her arms. We were brushing past her, when shegave a scream like a railway whistle, and nearly dropped the kid. Mynerves gave a sort of a jump when I heard that scream, but I turned andbegged her pardon, letting on that I thought I might have trod on herfoot. I knew the game was up, though, when I saw her white face, and herleaning against the door and pointing. 

"It's him!" she cried; "it's him! I saw him in the court-house. Oh, don't let him hurt the baby!"

"Who is it?" asked the steward and half a dozen others in a breath. 

"It's him--Maloney--Maloney, the murderer--oh, take him away--take himaway!"

I don't rightly remember what happened just at that moment. Thefurniture and me seemed to get kind of mixed, and there was cursing, and smashing, and some one shouting for his gold, and a general stampinground. When I got steadied a bit, I found somebody's hand in my mouth. From what I gathered afterward, I concluded that it belonged to thatsame little man with the vicious way of talking. He got some of it outagain, but that was because the others were choking me. A poor chap canget no fair play in this world when once he is down--still, I think hewill remember me till the day of his death--longer, I hope. 

They dragged me out on to the poop and held a damned court-martial--on_me_, mind you; _me_, that had thrown over my pals in order to servethem. What were they to do with me? Some said this, some said that; butit ended by the captain deciding to send me ashore. The ship stopped, they lowered a boat, and I was hoisted in, the whole gang of themhooting at me from over the bulwarks, I saw the man I spoke of tying uphis hand, though, and I felt that things might be worse. 

I changed my opinion before we got to the land. I had reckoned on theshore being deserted, and that I might make my way inland; but the shiphad stopped too near the Heads, and a dozen beach-combers and such likehad come down to the water's edge and were staring at us, wondering whatthe boat was after. When we got to the edge of the surf the cockswainhailed them, and after singing out who I was, he and his men threw meinto the water. You may well look surprised--neck and crop into ten feetof water, with sharks as thick as green parrots in the bush, and I heardthem laughing as I floundered to the shore. 

I soon saw it was a worse job than ever. As I came scrambling outthrough the weeds, I was collared by a big chap with a velveteen coat, and half a dozen others got round me and held me fast. Most of themlooked simple fellows enough, and I was not afraid of them; but therewas one in a cabbage-tree hat that had a very nasty expression on hisface, and the big man seemed to be chummy with him. 

They dragged me up the beach, and then they let go their hold of me andstood round in a circle. 

"Well, mate, " says the man with the hat, "we've been looking out for yousome time in these parts. "

"And very good of you, too, " I answers. 

"None of your jaw, " says he. "Come, boys, what shall it be--hanging, drowning, or shooting? Look sharp!"

This looked a bit too like business. "No, you don't!" I said. "I've gotgovernment protection, and it'll be murder. "

"That's what they call it, " answered the one in the velveteen coat, ascheery as a piping crow. 

"And you're going to murder me for being a ranger?"

"Ranger be damned!" said the man. "We're going to hang you for peachingagainst your pals; and that's an end of the palaver. "

They slung a rope round my neck and dragged me up to the edge of thebush. There were some big she-oaks and blue-gums, and they pitched onone of these for the wicked deed. They ran the rope over a branch, tiedmy hands, and told me to say my prayers. It seemed as if it was all up;but Providence interfered to save me. It sounds nice enough sitting hereand telling about it, sir; but it was sick work to stand with nothingbut the beach in front of you, and the long white line of surf, with thesteamer in the distance, and a set of bloody-minded villains round youthirsting for your life. 

I never thought I'd owe anything good to the police; but they savedme that time. A troop of them were riding from Hawkes Point Station toDunedin, and hearing that something was up, they came down through thebush and interrupted the proceedings. I've heard some bands in my time, doctor, but I never heard music like the jingle of those traps' spursand harness as they galloped out on to the open. They tried to hang meeven then, but the police were too quick for them; and the man with thehat got one over the head with the flat of a sword. I was clapped onto a horse, and before evening I found myself in my old quarters in thecity jail. 

The governor wasn't to be done, though. He was determined to get rid ofme, and I was equally anxious to see the last of him. He waited a weekor so until the excitement had begun to die away, and then he smuggledme aboard a three-masted schooner bound to Sydney with tallow and hides. 

We got far away to sea without a hitch, and things began to look a bitmore rosy. I made sure that I had seen the last of the prison, anyway. The crew had a sort of an idea who I was, and if there'd been any roughweather, they'd have hove me overboard, like enough; for they were arough, ignorant lot, and had a notion that I brought bad luck to theship. We had a good passage, however, and I was landed safe and soundupon Sydney Quay. 

Now just you listen to what happened next. You'd have thought they wouldhave been sick of ill-using me and following me by this time--wouldn'tyou, now? Well, just you listen. It seems that a cursed steamer startedfrom Dunedin to Sydney on the very day we left, and got in beforeus, bringing news that I was coming. Blessed if they hadn't called ameeting--a regular mass-meeting--at the docks to discuss about it, andI marched right into it when I landed. They didn't take long aboutarresting me, and I listened to all the speeches and resolutions. If I'dbeen a prince there couldn't have been more excitement. The end of allwas that they agreed that it wasn't right that New Zealand should beallowed to foist her criminals upon her neighbors, and that I was to besent back again by the next boat. So they posted me off again as ifI was a damned parcel; and after another eight-hundred-mile journey Ifound myself back for the third time moving in the place that I startedfrom. 

By this time I had begun to think that I was going to spend the rest ofmy existence traveling about from one port to another. Every man'shand seemed turned against me, and there was no peace or quiet in anydirection. I was about sick of it by the time I had come back; and ifI could have taken to the bush I'd have done it, and chanced it with myold pals. They were too quick for me, though, and kept me under lock andkey; but I managed, in spite of them, to negotiate that _caché_ I toldyou of, and sewed the gold up in my belt. I spent another month in jail, and then they slipped me aboard a bark that was bound for England. 

This time the crew never knew who I was, but the captain had a prettygood idea, though he didn't let on to me that he had any suspicions. I guessed from the first that the man was a villain. We had a fairpassage, except a gale or two off the Cape; and I began to feel likea free man when I saw the blue loom of the old country, and the saucylittle pilot-boat from Falmouth dancing toward us over the waves. We randown the Channel, and before we reached Gravesend I had agreed with thepilot that he should take me ashore with him when he left. It was atthis time that the captain showed me that I was right in thinking him ameddling, disagreeable man. I got my things packed, such as they were, and left him talking earnestly to the pilot, while I went below for mybreakfast. When I came up again we were fairly into the mouth of theriver, and the boat in which I was to have gone ashore had left us. Theskipper said the pilot had forgotten me; but that was too thin, and Ibegan to fear that all my old troubles were going to commence once more. 

It was not long before my suspicions were confirmed. A boat darted outfrom the side of the river, and a tall cove with a long black beard cameaboard. I heard him ask the mate whether they didn't need a mud-pilot totake them up in the reaches, but it seemed to me that he was a man whowould know a deal more about handcuffs than he did about steering, soI kept away from him. He came across the deck, however, and madesome remark to me, taking a good look at me the while. I don't likeinquisitive people at any time, but an inquisitive stranger with glueabout the roots of his beard is the worst of all to stand, especiallyunder the circumstances. I began to feel that it was time for me to go. 

I soon got a chance, and made good use of it. A big collier came athwartthe bows of our steamer, and we had to slacken down to dead slow. Therewas a barge astern, and I slipped down by a rope and was into the bargebefore any one missed me. Of course I had to leave my luggage behind me, but I had the belt with the nuggets round my waist, and the chance ofshaking the police off my track was worth more than a couple of boxes. It was clear to me now that the pilot had been a traitor, as well as thecaptain, and had set the detectives after me. I often wish I could dropacross those two men again. 

I hung about the barge all day as she drifted down the stream. There wasone man in her, but she was a big, ugly craft, and his hands were toofull for much looking about. Toward evening, when it got a bit dusky, Istruck out for the shore, and found myself in a sort of marsh place, agood many miles to the east of London. I was soaking wet and halfdead with hunger, but I trudged into the town, got a new rig-out at aslop-shop, and after having some supper, engaged a bed at the quietestlodgings I could find. 

I woke pretty early--a habit you pick up in the bush--and lucky for methat I did so. The very first thing I saw when I took a look through achink in the shutter was one of these infernal policemen standing rightopposite and staring up at the windows. He hadn't epaulets nor a sword, like our traps, but for all that there was a sort of family likeness, and the same busybody expression. Whether they followed me all the time, or whether the woman that let me the bed didn't like the looks of me, is more than I have ever been able to find out. He came across as I waswatching him, and noted down the address of the house in a book. I wasafraid that he was going to ring at the bell, but I suppose his orderswere simply to keep an eye on me, for after another good look at thewindows he moved on down the street. 

I saw that my only chance was to act at once. I threw on my clothes, opened the window softly, and, after making sure that there was nobodyabout, dropped out onto the ground and made off as hard as I could run. I traveled a matter of two or three miles, when my wind gave out; andas I saw a big building with people going in and out, I went in too, and found that it was a railway station. A train was just going offfor Dover to meet the French boat, so I took a ticket and jumped into athird-class carriage. 

There were a couple of other chaps in the carriage, innocent-lookingyoung beggars, both of them. They began speaking about this and that, while I sat quiet in the corner and listened. Then they started onEngland and foreign countries, and such like. Look ye now, doctor, thisis a fact. One of them begins jawing about the justice of England'slaws. "It's all fair and above-board, " says he; "there ain't any secretpolice, nor spying, like they have abroad, " and a lot more of the samesort of wash. Rather rough on me, wasn't it, listening to the damnedyoung fool, with the police following me about like my shadow?

I got to Paris right enough, and there I changed some of my gold, andfor a few days I imagined I'd shaken them off, and began to think ofsettling down for a bit of rest. I needed it by that time, for I waslooking more like a ghost than a man. You've never had the police afteryou, I suppose? Well, you needn't look offended, I didn't mean any harm. If ever you had you'd know that it wastes a man away like a sheep withthe rot. 

I went to the opera one night and took a box, for I was very flush. Iwas coming out between the acts when I met a fellow lounging alongin the passage. The light fell on his face, and I saw that it was themud-pilot that had boarded us in the Thames. His beard was gone, but Irecognized the man at a glance, for I've a good memory for faces. 

I tell you, doctor, I felt desperate for a moment. I could have knifedhim if we had been alone, but he knew me well enough never to give methe chance. It was more than I could stand any longer, so I went rightup to him and drew him aside, where we'd be free from all the loungersand theater-goers. 

"How long are you going to keep it up?" I asked him. 

He seemed a bit flustered for a moment, but then he saw there was no usebeating about the bush, so he answered straight:

"Until you go back to Australia, " he said. 

"Don't you know, " I said, "that I have served the government and got afree pardon?"

He grinned all over his ugly face when I said this. 

"We know all about you, Maloney, " he answered. "If you want a quietlife, just you go back where you came from. If you stay here, you're amarked man; and when you are found tripping it'll be a lifer for you, at the least. Free trade's a fine thing but the market's too full of menlike you for us to need to import any. "

It seemed to me that there was something in what he said, though he hada nasty way of putting it. For some days back I'd been feeling a sort ofhomesick. The ways of the people weren't my ways. They stared at me inthe street; and if I dropped into a bar, they'd stop talking and edgeaway a bit, as if I was a wild beast. I'd sooner have had a pint of oldStringybark, too, than a bucketful of their rot-gut liquors. Therewas too much damned propriety. What was the use of having money if youcouldn't dress as you liked, nor bust in properly? There was no sympathyfor a man if he shot about a little when he was half-over, I've seen aman dropped at Nelson many a time with less row than they'd make over abroken window-pane. The thing was slow, and I was sick of it. 

"You want me to go back?" I said. 

"I've my order to stick fast to you until you do, " he answered. 

"Well, " I said, "I don't care if I do. All I bargain is that you keepyour mouth shut and don't let on who I am, so that I may have a fairstart when I get there. "

He agreed to this, and we went over to Southampton the very nextday, where he saw me safely off once more. I took a passage round toAdelaide, where no one was likely to know me; and there I settled, rightunder the nose of the police. I'd been there ever since, leading a quietlife, but for little difficulties like the one I'm in for now, and forthat devil, Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury. I don't know what made metell you all this, doctor, unless it is that being lonely makes a maninclined to jaw when he gets a chance. Just you take warning from me, though. Never put yourself out to serve your country; for your countrywill do precious little for you. Just you let them look after their ownaffairs; and if they find difficulty in hanging a set of scoundrels, never mind chipping in, but let them alone to do as best they can. Maybethey'll remember how they treated me after I'm dead, and be sorry forneglecting me, I was rude to you when you came in, and swore a triflepromiscuous: but don't you mind me, it's only my way. You'll allow, though, that I have cause to be a bit touchy now and again when I thinkof all that's passed. You're not going, are you? Well, if you must, youmust; but I hope you will look me up at odd times when you are goingyour rounds. Oh, I say, you've left the balance of that cake of tobaccobehind you, haven't you? No; it's in your pocket--that's all right. Thank ye, doctor, you're a good sort, and as quick at a hint as any manI've met. 

A couple of months after narrating his experiences, Wolf Tone Maloneyfinished his term, and was released. For a long time I neither saw himnor heard of him, and he had almost slipped from my memory, until Iwas reminded, in a somewhat tragic manner, of his existence. I had beenattending a patient some distance off in the country, and was ridingback, guiding my tired horse among the boulders which strewed thepathway, and endeavoring to see my way through the gathering darkness, when I came suddenly upon a little wayside inn. As I walked my horse uptoward the door, intending to make sure of my bearings before proceedingfurther, I heard the sound of a violent altercation within the littlebar. 

There seemed to be a chorus of expostulation or remonstrance, abovewhich two powerful voices rang out loud and angry. As I listened, therewas a momentary hush, two pistol shots sounded almost simultaneously, and with a crash the door burst open and a pair of dark figuresstaggered out into the moonlight. They struggled for a moment in adeadly wrestle, and then went down together among the loose stones. I had sprung off my horse, and, with the help of half a dozen roughfellows from the bar, dragged them away from one another. 

A glance was sufficient to convince me that one of them was dying fast. He was a thick-set burly fellow, with a determined cast of countenance. The blood was welling from a deep stab in his throat, and it was evidentthat an important artery had been divided. I turned away from him indespair, and walked over to where his antagonist was lying. He was shotthrough the lungs, but managed to raise himself up on his hand as Iapproached, and peered anxiously up into my face. To my surprise, Isaw before me the haggard features and flaxen hair of my prisonacquaintance, Maloney. 

"Ah, doctor!" he said, recognizing me. "How is he? Will he die?"

He asked the question so earnestly that I imagined he had softened atthe last moment, and feared to leave the world with another homicideupon his conscience. Truth, however, compelled me to shake my headmournfully, and to intimate that the wound would prove a mortal one. 

Maloney gave a wild cry of triumph, which brought the blood wellingout from between his lips. "Here, boys, " he gasped to the little grouparound him. "There's money in my inside pocket. Damn the expense! Drinksround. There's nothing mean about me. I'd drink with you, but I'm going. Give the doc my share, for he's as good--" Here his head fell backwith a thud, his eye glazed, and the soul of Wolf Tone Maloney, forger, convict, ranger, murderer, and government peach, drifted away into theGreat Unknown. 

I cannot conclude without borrowing the account of the fatal quarrelwhich appeared in the column of the _West Australian Sentinel_. Thecurious will find it in the issue of October 4, 1881:

 "Fatal Affray. --W. T. Maloney, a well-know citizen of New Montrose, and proprietor of the Yellow Boy gambling saloon, has met with his death under rather painful circumstances. Mr. Maloney was a man who had led a checkered existence, and whose past history is replete with interest. Some of our readers may recall the Lena Valley murders, in which he figured as the principal criminal. It is conjectured that during the seven months that he owned a bar in that region, from twenty to thirty travelers were hocussed and made away with. He succeeded, however, in evading the vigilance of the officers of the law, and allied himself with the bushrangers of Bluemansdyke, whose heroic capture and subsequent execution are matters of history. Maloney extricated himself from the fate which awaited him by turning Queen's evidence. He afterward visited Europe, but returned to West Australia, where he has long played a prominent part in local matters. On Friday evening he encountered an old enemy, Thomas Grimthorpe, commonly known as Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury. 

 "Shots were exchanged, and both were badly wounded, only surviving a few minutes. Mr. Maloney had the reputation of being not only the most wholesale murderer that ever lived, but also of having a finish and attention to detail in matters of evidence which has been unapproached by any European criminal. _Sic transit gloria mundi!_"