Read The Pride of the Peacock Online

Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Fiction in English, #General

The Pride of the Peacock (26 page)

BOOK: The Pride of the Peacock
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What about it? Shall we take it or spend the night out of doors? 8 The woman had come forward.

“You’re welcome, my dear,” she said.

“It’s a nice room. Are you man and wife?”

“Yes, we are,” answered Joss.

Then I’ll bustle to and get the bed made up. It’s a very good bed . lovely soft feathers brought out from England. Jack here will see to the horses. Jack. Set to, lad. And Mary. Where’s Mary? “

Joss helped me to alight. I could see that he was enjoying the situation.

“Cheer up,” he whispered. The unnatural embargo is bound to put us into some awkward situations, but I’m very resourceful

The room was pleasant-very clean-and dominated by the big double bed.

Joss regarded it ruefully. That’s a comfortable chair,” he said.

“It would serve me well or I might lie at the foot of the bed like a knight of old.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked at me earnestly. There is one thing you must never forget,” he said.

“I have never yet forced my attentions on a woman who didn’t want me, and I feel no temptation to do so now. I’m proud, you know …”

“I do know it. I believe the Peacock is a nickname of yours.”

“I believe it is, but no one dare call me by it to my face. Remember

what I said. It might save you considerable un easiness. ” I We washed the grime of the road from ourselves in tepid water and went downstairs. Steaks were cooking on a gridiron on a fire out of doors and close by was a long table with benches. We were told to sit down and were given kangaroo soup in thick earthenware mugs while the steaks sizzled over the grid. Our hostess made dampers-pieces of unleavened bread-which were ready at the same time as the steaks.

Afterwards cheese was served with Johnny cakes-dampers the size of scones-and there was a beverage which tasted like ale to accompany the food.

It was not dark when we had finished and we strolled round and watched the sheep being rounded up by kelpie dogs who answered the farmer’s whistle and got the bewildered animals into their pens, keeping them dose together by running nimbly right over their backs.

FOr all Joss’s protestations, I was disturbed at the thought of sharing a room with him. He said he would take the chair, which seemed to offer greater comfort than the floor, and I removed only my skirt and bodice. I slept fitfully, which perhaps was to be expected in the circumstances; and I supposed the same applied to joss.

We set off on our journey in the pure morning air and it was about eleven o’clock when we came to a river which Joss thought would be a good place to stop. The horses were in need of a rest and they could drink. He told me to gather some sticks of bracken, which I did, and with an expert touch, which I could not but admire, he quickly made a fire and brewed what he called quart pot tea. We found a tree under which we could sit comfortably. Our landlady of the previous night had supplied us with sandwiches and we had some cheese. Strangely enough, I felt I had never drunk tea or tasted sandwiches so good.

The sun grew hotter and both of us were feeling drowsy, for neither of us had had a good night’s sleep. I quickly dozed and dreamed that I was on the ship. There was a storm and I was walking on deck being buffeted from one side to the other. I was caught suddenly in a vicdike grip and there was Joss.

“Are you trying to commit suicide?”

he asked and I was stung into saying: “It would be a good way out for you, wouldn’t it? Everything would be yours then. You wouldn’t have the encumberance of a wife who doesn’t want you any more than you want her. Everything would be yours … the houses, the shares, the Green

Flash at Sunset…” As I mentioned the opal his expression changed and his grip on pj>. 161 f me tightened. That’s a good idea,” he said, and there were murderous lights in his eyes.

“I’d be better off without you. Suicide … well, it could look like that, couldn’t it?” I cried out: “No … No!

You’re not going to murder me. “

I awoke with a start and my heart leaped in terror, for there he was, his face close to mine, watching me intently. For a moment I thought the dream was real.

“What was that about?” he asked.

1 was dreaming. “

“It seemed like a nightmare.” , “It must have been.”

“A nightmare in broad daylight! You must have something on your mind… something that frightens you.”

“I think I’m able to take care of myself so I’m not afraid

What was the dream ? “

“Oh, nothing. It was all confused as dreams are.”

“It’s a big undertaking to leave your native land and come out to a strange one. Are you disturbed about that?”

“I sometimes wonder how I shall fit in.”

“And marriage … with a stranger … a meaningless sort of marriage. Let’s hope that in due course we shall come to some compromise about that.”

I wondered what he meant by compromise.

There are lawless elements out here,” he went on.

There are in all countries. “

“Have you ever heard of bush rangers ?”

“Of course. ” But you do not know what they are really like. Desperate men . perhaps they’ve failed in the gold-fields or the opal and sapphire mines. They’re desperadoes who live by robbery. This is the ideal background for them. They can hide in the Bush and ply their trade with comparative ease. They’re deter mined not to be caught, which would mean hanging from a tree as a warning to their kind. They don’t hesitate to kill if the occasion arises. “

“I believe you’d like me to go straight home.”

He laughed.

“I’d like to see if you’re the sort of person who would go straight home because of a few discomforts.”

Til tell you one thing. I’m the sort of person who would put up with a great deal to prove you wrong. “

That made him laugh and I stared straight ahead because I did not care to meet his eyes, which I thought over bold.

Looking for bush rangers he asked.

 

“Don’t fret You’ve got a protector You?”

“And this.” He took out a small pistol from a belt at his hip.

“A

beauty,” he said.

“I never travel without her. Neat, insignificant in appearance and deadly in action. They wouldn’t stand much chance, I can tell you, with us around.”

We rode side by side through the Bush.

The Trant Homestead is about fifteen miles on,” he said. The horses will be in need of a rest when we get there and so will we.”

I looked about me at the scenery which was wild and interesting.

“What are those pale-looking trees over there?” I asked.

“Ghost gums. Some people believe that when people die violently in the Bush they take up their habitation inside the trees and that where there is a ghost gum there will in time be others to join it. You should see them in moonlight; then you would believe the legend. There are some who won’t pass a dump of ghost gums after dusk. They think the branches will turn into arms and that in the morning there will be another ghost gum to stand beside those who were there the day before.”

“Every country has its legends.”

“And we’re a down-to^arth people here.”

There was a sudden cackle of laughter above us which startled me so violently that I moved sideways in the saddle. Joss noticed and laughed.

“It’s only a kookaburra,” he said, ‘the laughing jackass or a kingfisher. Ah, there’s his mate. They are often in pairs. They seem to find life very amusing. You’ll hear them often round Peacock House.


 

We rode over dried-up creeks and gullies.

The wild flowers would have been a picture,” said Joss, ‘if it hadn’t been for the drought.”

It must have been about seven in the evening when Joss pulled up on a slight hillock and looked about him at the Bush spread out around us.

“We should be able to see Trant’s from here,” he said.

“It’s built in a hollow.8 ” It’ll be dark soon. “

“Yes, I want to get there before sundown. The Bush can be treacherous.

I know it well, of course, but even old stagers have been known to be lost. You have to be careful, and not wander out alone. You see how the same kind of landscape goes on and on. I’ve known people to be lost in the Bush;

 

they walk miles and often end up literally going round in circles.

They can’t make a landmark because the scenery repeats itself again and again. So take care. I think I can see Trant’s. Look. Over there in that hollow. “

We rode on. The sun had sunk below the horizon. The first stars had started to appear and there was a thin crescent of moon.

He galloped on and I followed. Suddenly he pulled up short and I came up beside him.

“Good God!” he cried.

“Just look at that!”

It was an eerie sight in the pale light of the moon and stars-a shell of a house. Joss rode on and I followed him, picking my way carefully over the sparse, scorched grass. Fire had ravaged one side of the two-storey building; the rest had been severely licked by the flames.

“We’ll look round,” said Joss, ‘and see what there is. “

We dismounted and he tethered the horses to a piece of iron fence.

“Careful how you go,” he called over his shoulder. Then he turned and took my hand and together we stepped over the blackened threshold.

They must have lost everything,” he said.

“I wonder where they went.”

“I hope their lives were saved.”

“Who can say?”

“How far are we from Fancy Town?”

Thirty miles or so. Trant’s! People used to stay here. It was like an oasis in the desert . there’s nothing else for miles round. ” He turned and looked at me.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night. The horses can’t go on. There’s a river close by. Let’s hope it’s not dried up. The horses could drink and there might be some grass that’s not been scorched by the fire. Wait here. I’ll go and look.”

As I stood in that burned-out shell I felt a sudden horror of the place. There was an atmosphere of doom about it. Tragedy had happened here, and death and disaster seemed to have dung to the air. I shivered and a sudden coldness came over me. I felt that I was alone with the dead. I touched the blackened walls. This had once been a parlour, I imagined, where people had sat and talked and laughed together; within these four walls they had lived their lives. I imagined their coming from England, settlers who had sought a new life

and had hit on the idea of making an inn where travellers through the Bush could stay for a night or so. They would farm the land as well, for not enough people would pass this way to give them a living as innkeepers; they would go for walks without seeing anyone . nothing but wild bush. I wondered if they had lived in fear of bush rangers Those blackened walls filled me with foreboding and I don’t think I fully realized the loneliness of the Bush until that moment.

I noticed that there were some remains of habitation-a half-burned table, pieces of metal which could have been part of some fitting, two battered candlesticks which had once been shining brass, and there was a tin box such as the one Maddy had at home. She always referred to it as ‘my box and it carried her possessions in it. It had come to Oakland Hall when she had and it would be with her all her life.

A figure loomed up beside me and I gasped in horror.

Sorry I scared you,” said Joss.

“Why. what’s the matter?”

“It’s this place. There’s something haunted about it.”

Why, there’s little left but the walls. I found the stream and mercifully there’s grass there. We’ll take the horses down. “

“Are we going to stay here?” asked.

“It’s shelter and we’re not equipped for camping.”

“Couldn’t we go on?2 Tor thirty miles? The horses need rest. We’ll stay here till dawn and then we’ll get going. Let’s see if there’s anything we can use. We’ll explore. But be careful.”

I said: There’s a tin box over there. There might be something in that. 8 As we moved across the floor my foot struck something. I stooped and picked up a half-burned candle. Joss took it from me and said:

“Someone’s been here recently and must have had the same idea as we have of using it for the night.” He examined the stump and then took matches from his pocket and lighted it. He held the candle high and the place looked more forbidding than ever in the dim light. His face looked different too. His eyes were darker and the bronze of his skin less obvious. There was something half amused and enigmatic in his expression as he regarded me; I noticed his ears were large and faintly pointed at the tips which gave him the appearance of a satyr.

I caught a glint in his eyes which suggested to me that he was not altogether displeased with our situation. This gave me more than a twinge of uneasiness. “

“It was lucky to find the candle,” I said.

“I wonder who left it. Some bushranger, perhaps Why shouldn’t it be travellers like ourselves Y

 

x65 ii uugui uc, oi course. ” He patted his belt.

“Now you see why it’s well to be prepared. Don’t be alarmed. You’re not alone, you know.”

He kept his eyes on my face, and I had an idea that he was trying to frighten me.

There could be something in the tin box,” I said.

He went over to it and touched it with his foot.

“It seems to have stood up to the fire pretty well.” He stooped down and opened it and holding the candle high, peered in.

“Why, look. A blanket. It must have escaped the fire. The .tin box has protected it. What a find! We can spread it on the floor.” He took it out and sniffed at it.

“You can smell the smoke.”

I came over to him and took the blanket.

“Do you think whoever used the candle used it too?”

“Who knows? We can’t afford to be fastidious. We’ll have need of it.”

As I lifted it out I saw a book. It was a kind of ledger. I picked it up and opened it. Inside was written Trant Home stead, 1875. This book is the property of James and Ethel Trant who left England in the year 1873 and settled here in this house which they called Trant’s Homestead. “

I pictured James and Ethel leaving home full of hope and settling in this isolated spot; as I turned over the pages of the book I saw that it had been used as a kind of register. There was one column for the date, a centre one for names and another for comments. There were remarks like Thanks, James and Ethel. It was good,” and another ” Just like Home’;

BOOK: The Pride of the Peacock
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