Then I heard a voice, his voice, and for a. second I thought I had imagined it.

The voice said distinctly: “Jagger! Get up, Jagger.”

I was lying on the ground, panting, my riding jacket torn, my hair hanging about my face. I pushed it aside with a trembling hand and I saw him, more magnificent than he had ever seemed before, seated on a big white horse. His eyes were like blue ice.

He commanded: “Stand there, Jagger.”

Jagger obeyed as if in a trance. Then I saw Lynx raise his hand and I heard a deafening report.

Jagger was lying on the ground and there was blood.

Time appeared to stop. It seemed a very long time, but it could only have been for a few seconds that I lay there where Jagger had thrown me and Lynx remained still on his horse, the smoking pistol in his hand, calm, all-powerful.

“Don’t look, Nora,” he said.

“Get up. Get on your horse.”

I obeyed him as Jagger had done. I felt weak and could scarcely breathe, but I went to my horse and mounted. Lynx was beside me and quietly we rode back to Whiteladies.

Adelaide looked after me. I was so shocked that I just lay in my bed and said nothing. She brought me brandy and eggs in milk. I turned away and she insisted, ‘my father said you were to have these. ” So I took them and felt better.

She gave me something to drink that evening and I did not wake until morning. Then I felt different. I had slept without dreams which I did not think I should ever do again, for I believed that that scene with all its terror and its blood was imprinted on my mind for ever. I kept going over it: the moment when I had turned and seen Jagger and had known I was at his mercy at one in the bush; the mounting horror; and that other moment when Lynx had come as though in answer to my call; I could never forget the sight of him on the white horse and the cold way in which he raised his gun and fired.

“There was blood,” I kept saying to myself.

“On the bushes … on the ground … blood everywhere. Lynx has killed Jagger.” No, I assured myself, he has only wounded him. Even he would not dare kill a man.

That would make him a murderer.

But I knew in my heart that Lynx had killed Jagger and it was because of what he had attempted to do to me.

There was a hush over the house. A coffin had been made for Jagger. It was taken into the biggest of the sheds which had been built to store the bales of wool.

Every man in the Lynx Empire—the property, the house, the mine—was summoned to the shed. It was a strange, quiet day, a day of mourning, and yet more than that. It was as though some solemn ritual was about to take place.

Adelaide would say nothing. Stirling came and held me in his arms.

“You’re all right, Nora,” he said.

“Don’t ever worry again. Don’t ever think of it. You’re safe now.”

Adelaide came to my room.

“Nora, my father wants you to go to the wool shed. Don’t be afraid. You’ll feel better. I’m going with you and so ‘is Stirling.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“My father says you are not to be afraid again. He says we should have taken better care of you.”

“You were always warning me that I might get lost in the bush.”

“But I should have thought of this.”

“There was Mary,” I reminded her.

“But you did not believe her.”

“Oh, Nora. My poor Nora. But it is over and it will never happen again. My father is determined on that.”

I shall never forget the scene in the wool shed. This was my first introduction to the law of the land. Justice had been done to Jagger.

That was the verdict. Any man finding his daughter in the position I was in had every right to kill her would-be ravisher.

The coffin stood on trestles at one end of the barn; at either end of it burned two candles. Lynx was standing beside it and the candle light caught the blue tire of his eyes.

When he saw me he held out his hand and I went and stood beside him.

Adelaide and Stirling remained at the door. The shed was full of men—some of whom I knew, others whom I had never seen.

Lynx took my hand and looking at the coffin said: “In this box lies what is left of Jacob Jagger. This is my daughter. If any man here lays a hand on her he will receive the same punishment as Jacob Jagger. It will be well for every man among you to remember this. I am, as you will know, a man who keeps his word.”

Then still keeping my hand in his he walked out of the shed with me; and Adelaide and Stirling fell in behind us.

Five

Nothing could be quite the same afterwards. I had become subdued. I seemed to have grown up suddenly. People looked at me a little furtively—the men of the estate as though they were afraid of me. I suppose every time they saw me they thought of Jacob Jagger.

Stirling managed the property until a new manager could be found in James Madder, who soon learned of the fate of his predecessor and scarcely looked my way. Adelaide tried to make everything normal by behaving as though nothing had happened; but you cannot be involved in sudden death and pretend it is an everyday occurrence.

For some days I had no desire to ride again. I stayed near Adelaide; there was something safe about her. She understood my feelings and was constantly inviting me to help in some task or other. Together we produced new curtains for some of the rooms; we made up materials for ourselves and altered old dresses. There was always some project afoot. Then, of course, there was the garden.

Sometimes I would wake in the night calling for help. I could not always remember the dreams, but they were concerned with that nightmare day.

“Stirling,” I said to him one day when we rode together, ‘you never speak of that day. Isn’t it better to talk of it? “

“Isn’t it best to forget?”

“Do you think that it is something one can ever forget?”

“You have to try. In time it will fade. You’ll see.”

“It was like something one dreams of, too bad for reality.”

“I should have been there. I should have guessed. Jagger was a swine.

I should have known. Did you have any idea? “

“I was always afraid of him.”

“You didn’t say so.”

“I didn’t think it was important until that moment when I was alone.”

“Don’t speak of it.”

“But we are speaking of it. And then your father came. He was there on his white horse and suddenly … there was blood. I thought ..”

“There, I told you not to speak of it. Listen, Nora, it’s over. My father was there. He came in time, and that is the end of Jagger. He can never attempt to harm you again.”

“He was killed. Your father killed a man because of me.”

“It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do.”

“He could have dismissed him. He could have sent him away. Why didn’t he do that?”

“My father did what was right. Life is different out here, Nora. Not long ago in England a man could be hanged for stealing a sheep. Out here any man has a right to kill another who attacks his womenfolk.”

“But it was murder.”

“It was justice.”

“But does no one question it?”

“There has been an enquiry. My father would not let you go because he thought it would be too upsetting for you. He would not have you questioned, he said. He told what had happened; he had killed Jagger, he said, and he would do the same to any man who acted as Jagger did towards his daughters. Jagger was notorious. It was well known what kind of man he was. The women of the community would have been in danger if my father’s action was not accepted as the right one, and the verdict was that justice had been administered. And that is the truth. You must stop thinking about it.”

They wanted me to live as I had before; to ride when I wished, to stop thinking of that terrible day.

My relationship with Lynx had undergone a subtle change. Even he was il! at ease. I went to him to play my usual game of chess but it was some weeks before I could bring myself to talk of the matter.

I said to him then: “What brought you to Kerry’s Creek on that day.”

He frowned in concentration.

“I’m not entirely sure. I seemed to sense that something was wrong. Do you remember when we talked of that trip you made to Melbourne when you camped on the way? We mentioned Jagger and something in your manner told me that you were afraid of the man.

I guessed for what reason . knowing Jagger. That morning I felt uneasy because I saw him riding in the direction of Kerry’s Creek. I wondered where he was going and I asked at the stables which direction you had taken that morning. No one was sure but they said that it would either be Martha’s Mound, Dog Hill or Kerry’s Creek. I decided to ride ‘out after Jagger. That was how it happened. “

“What good fortune for me! And it cost Jagger his life.”

Lynx’s eyes glittered.

“You don’t think I would have let him live.”

“He forced Mary,” I said.

“She told me so.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“You can be indifferent to that?” I said.

“That is beside the point. Do you think I could ever be indifferent to anything that happened to you?”

There was silence in the library broken only by the ticking of the clock. It was a beautiful French clock which he had had sent out from London.

He said abruptly: “Let us have our game of chess.”

So we played the strangest game we had ever played. Hitherto he had always beaten me, but that night I turned the tables. I took his queen and a strange feeling of triumph ran through me as I seized her.