It is difficult to say whether Kate Ellison, or Reuben Whitney was the most surprised at this unexpected meeting. The former, indeed, was aware that Reuben had come out to Australia; but that the boy, whose cause she had championed, should now stand before her as the officer, to whose energy and activity she and her sister owed so much, seemed almost incredible.  
But the surprise of Reuben was at least equal to that which she felt. He could scarcely credit the evidence of his senses, at seeing before him the young lady whom he had believed to be thousands of miles away, in England. As is usual in these cases, the girl was the first to recover from her surprise.
 
"And it is to you we owe so much!" she said, holding out her hand. "Mr. Barker spoke of our preserver as Captain Whitney; but somehow it never, for a moment, occurred to me to connect the name with you.
 
"Is it not extraordinary, Alice?" she said, turning to her sister.
 
"The surprise to me is even greater than to you, Miss Ellison," Reuben said. "Mr. Barker always spoke of Mrs. Donald and her sister, and I had not the least idea that you were in the colony. My mother wrote to me, a year ago, telling me of the changes which have taken place; but although she said that you had left Tipping, she said nothing about your coming out here."
 
Reuben had, in fact, been much disturbed in his mind, a year previously, by hearing from his mother that Mr. Ellison had died suddenly. He had, it seemed, lost a large sum of money, from the failure of a bank in which he was a shareholder, and the blow had killed him. The estate was, when Mrs. Whitney wrote, for sale.
 
Reuben had written back, begging his mother to send him all particulars that she could gather; but communication between Australia and England was in those days very slow, and no answer had yet been received. Another letter had, indeed, told him that the estate had been sold. Mrs. Ellison, he knew, had died a few weeks after he had left England.
 
"It is very simple," Kate Ellison said quietly; "although of course it seems so strange to you, our being here. My sister was engaged to Mr. Donald before papa's death and, as you know, almost everything went owing to that bank; and as I had no reason for staying in England, I came out here with them."
 
Reuben subsequently learned that Mr. Ellison had disapproved of the engagement of his daughter with Mr. Donald, who was the younger son of a neighbouring squire. When, after his death, Mr. Ellison's affairs were wound up, it was found that there remained only the six thousand pounds, which his wife had brought him, to be divided between her daughters. Mr. Donald possessed no capital, and had no prospects at home. He and Alice were quietly married, three months after her father's death, and had sailed a week later for New South Wales; where, as land could be taken up at a nominal price, it was thought that her little fortune would be ample to start them comfortably. All this, however, Reuben did not learn until some time later.
 
After chatting for a short time, he returned to the camp fire.
 
"This is very awkward, Mr. Barker," Mrs. Donald said; "do you know that Captain Whitney was, at one time, gardener's boy to our father?"
 
"Oh, Alice!" her sister exclaimed, "what difference can that make?"
 
"It seems to me," Mrs. Donald said, "that it makes a very great difference. You know mamma never thought well of him, and it is very awkward, now, finding him here in such a position; especially as he has laid us under an obligation to him.
 
"Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?"
 
"I do not pretend to know anything about such matters, Mrs. Donald," Mr. Barker said bluntly; "and I shouldn't have thought it could have made any difference to you, what the man was who had saved you from such a fate as would have befallen you, had it not been for his energy. I can only say that Captain Whitney is a gentleman with whom anyone here, or in the old country, would be glad to associate. I may say that when he came here, three or four months ago, my friend Mr. Hudson—one of the leading men in the colony—wrote to me, saying that Captain Whitney was one of his most intimate friends, that he was in every respect a good fellow, and that he himself was under a lifelong obligation to him; for he had, at the risk of his life, when on the way out, saved that of his daughter when she was attacked by a mad Malay at the Cape.
 
"More than that, I did not inquire. It was nothing to me whether he was born a prince, or a peasant."
 
Mrs. Donald coloured hotly, at the implied reproof of Mr. Barker's words. She had always shared her mother's prejudices against Reuben Whitney, and she had not been long enough, in the colony, to become accustomed to the changes of position which are there so frequent.
 
"You do not understand, Mr. Barker," she said pettishly. "It was not only that he was a boy employed in the family. There were other circumstances—"
 
"Oh, Alice!" Kate broke out, "how can you speak of such things? Here are we at present, owing more than our lives to this man, and you are going now to damage him by raking up that miserable old story.
 
"Mr. Barker," she said impulsively, "my father, one of the most just, as well as one of the most kind of men, had the highest opinion of Reuben Whitney; believe me, there was nothing in the circumstances to which Alice alludes which could cast the slightest slur upon his character."
 
"I feel certain of that, my dear young lady," Mr. Barker said, "even without your assurance. Your sister is shaken by the events of the day, and no wonder; and I am quite sure that when she thinks this matter over she will see that, whatever her preconceived ideas may be, it would be most ungrateful and ungenerous to breathe a single word in disparagement of Captain Whitney."
 
So saying, he turned on his heel and left the room; and Kate, wishing to avoid further words on the matter with her sister, followed his example.
 
Mrs. Donald's reflections were not pleasant. She felt that Mr. Barker's reproof was well deserved, and that she had acted ungratefully and ungenerously. As a rule, Mr. Ellison's elder daughter was by no means of an unkind disposition; but she was essentially her mother's child.
 
The question of Reuben Whitney had been one which had caused more serious dissension, between her father and mother, than any she ever remembered. She had taken her mother's view of the case, while Kate had agreed with her father; and although the subject had been dropped, by mutual consent, it had been a very sore one; and at the sight of Reuben, the remembrance of the old unpleasantness had caused her to play a part which she could not but feel was mean and unworthy. She felt angry at herself—angry with Mr. Barker, with her sister, and with Reuben.
 
She was standing there, with her lips pressed together as she thought over the matter, when Mrs. Barker came into the room.
 
"He is awake now, my dear. Perhaps you had better go in to him."
 
Then she dismissed from her mind the events of the last few minutes, and went in to take her place by the side of her husband. But as, during the long hours of the night, she sat there and thought over what had passed since the preceding evening, the thought of how much she owed to Reuben Whitney was uppermost in her mind; and when in the morning Mrs. Barker relieved her, she went into the other room, where Mr. Barker and Kate were about to sit down to breakfast, and said:
 
"Mr. Barker, I thank you for what you said to me last night. You were right and I was wrong. I was ungrateful, and ungenerous. I can only say that it was a very sore subject, and that in my surprise I thought of the past, and not the present. Believe me, I am very sorry for what I said."
 
"That is quite enough, Mrs. Donald," Mr. Barker said heartily. "I am very glad you have said what you have. I was sure that you would, upon reflection, feel that whatever the old grievance might have been, it could not weigh an instant against what you owe to that young fellow now. Let us say no more on the subject. You were shaken and not yourself, and I was wrong in taking you up so sharply, under the circumstances."
 
Kate said nothing, but her face showed that she was greatly pleased at her sister's change of tone.
 
"What is going to be done, Mr. Barker?" Mrs. Donald asked. "Of course, the friends who came to our rescue cannot stay here; and there is no chance of my husband being moved, for a long time."
 
"I am afraid not, indeed," Mr. Barker said. "Most of them will leave this afternoon, in time to get back to their stations tonight.
 
"I have been speaking with Captain Whitney, and he says that he with his men will certainly stay here, for the present.. He sent off a messenger, last night, for six more of his men to join him here; for he still hopes to get news from his native boy, which may set him on the tracks of the bush rangers. You need, however, be under no alarm; for I think there is no chance, whatever, of the bush rangers returning.
 
"By the way, Whitney would like to speak to you, after breakfast. He wants you to give him as minute a description as you can of the fellows you saw. We have already descriptions of four or five of them, given by men whom they have stuck up; but the band must have increased lately, and any particulars might be useful."
 
Reuben came round in a quarter of an hour later. Mr. Barker fetched him into the room where Mrs. Barker and Kate were sitting.
 
"Mr. Donald is no worse, I am glad to hear," he said, as he shook hands with the two ladies.
 
"I see no change whatever," Mrs. Barker said. "He is conscious, but does not speak much. He asked me, this morning, to tell you and all your friends how deeply he feels indebted to you."
 
"His thanks are due to the settlers, rather than to me, Mrs. Barker. They were volunteers, you know, while I was simply on duty. We had, however, one common interest—to get here in time to save the station and, above all, to catch and break up this gang of scoundrels.
 
"And now, Miss Ellison, if you feel equal to it, would you kindly give us an account of what happened? Mr. Barker said that he would not ask you, yesterday; but something, perhaps, let drop by chance, might serve as an indication to us as to the direction in which these fellows have gone."
 
"I will tell you, certainly," the girl said, her face paling a little; "although it is dreadful, even now, to think of. We of course had no idea of attack, and had gone to bed as usual. One of the men was always on guard, on the outside of the house; for these attacks made Mr. Donald nervous for the safety of my sister, and myself. Simpson was on guard that night. Whether he went to sleep or not, I cannot say."
 
"He did, Miss Ellison," Reuben interrupted. "We found his body round by the end of the house. He had evidently been sitting down on a log, against the house; and had been killed by a crushing blow with some heavy instrument, probably one of the tools they used for breaking in."
 
"The first we knew about it," Kate went on, "was a tremendous crash downstairs, which was followed by a continuous thundering noise. I think they must have burst the door in with crowbars, or something—that was the first noise we heard—but a strong wooden bar, inside, kept the door in its place till they battered it down with a log.
 
"I hurried on some things. Just as I had done—it was not a minute, I think, from the time I woke—Alice ran in, partly dressed, too. I had heard Mr. Donald shout to the men, then there was another great crash as the bar gave way, and then some shots were fired.
 
"Mr. Donald had been standing just behind the door, and had fired through it the moment before it gave way. He had not time to step back, and was knocked down by the door. It was fortunate for him, for the bush rangers rushed in and shot down the two men, instantly.
 
"Alice would have run down to see what had happened to her husband, but I would not let her out of my room. She could have done no good, and might have been shot. Then we heard them moving about the house, swearing and using all sorts of horrible language. Then they shouted up to us to come down, or else they would come and fetch us; so we opened the door, and came down at once.
 
"Alice gave a little cry of joy, as she entered the room and saw her husband standing unhurt, though still looking dazed and confused from his blow.
 
"The leader of the band—I suppose you have not seen him, Captain Whitney?"
 
"No, indeed," Reuben said. "I would give a good deal to catch sight of him."
 
"What do you know about him?"
 
"I only know that he is a young fellow, not much older than I am myself. His was a life sentence. He was concerned in a burglary in the country, in which two old ladies were killed. Two of his accomplices were hung for it, but in consideration of his youth, and as it was not proved that he took an absolute part in the murder, he got off with a life sentence. I heard about the case from Captain Wilson.
 
"He came out here about a year after I did. He had not been here a month when he killed one of the guard, and made his escape. Since that time he has been a scourge to the colony. Not a week has passed without complaints of his bailing up and robbing teamsters on their way down to Sydney. He soon gathered two or three others about him, and his daring and impudence soon made him a noted character. Several times he, with two other men, rode into good-sized villages and, pistol in hand, went from house to house, and carried off every shilling in the place. He has ridden into large stores single handed, and compelled the storekeepers to hand over the contents of their tills. Sometimes they bring spare horses with them, and ride off laden with groceries and stores. He has committed at least a score of murders, always using his pistol at the slightest show of opposition; and sometimes murdering, apparently, from pure love of the thing."
 
"Do you know his name?" Kate asked.
 
"His real name? No, I don't know that I ever heard it. He is always spoken of as Fothergill."
 
"I will tell you his real name, presently," Kate said. "As my sister and I came into the kitchen, he took off his hat and made a deep bow and said:
 
"'Ladies, me and my mates are sorry to put you to any inconvenience; but as we happen to be hungry, we must trouble you to get us some supper. You need not bother to make tea, wine is good enough for us.'
 
"Of course, as we were in their hands there was nothing to do but to obey his orders; so we spread the cloth, and brought out what there was in the larder. Then we fetched in the wine, and I brought several bottles of spirits; for, as I whispered to Alice, 'If they get drunk, we may be able to get away from them.'
 
"Before ............