the back of the kitchen, stole down to
the corner of the house to listen; in the stillness that wonderful voice
floated out into the night. So it chanced that Gavan Blake, arriving,
heard the singing, stole softly to the door, and looked in, listening
for a while, before anyone saw him.

The picture he saw was for ever photographed on his mind. He saw the
quiet comfort and luxury--for after Tarrong it was luxury to him--of the
station drawing-room; caught the scent of the flowers and the glorious
tones of that beautiful voice; and, as he watched the sweet face of
the singer, and listened to the words of the song, a sudden fierce
determination rose in his mind. He would devote all his energies to
winning Mary Grant for his wife; combative and self-confident as he was
by nature, he felt no dismay at the difficulties in his way. He had been
on a borderline long enough. Here was his chance to rise at a bound, and
he determined to succeed if success were humanly possible.

As the song came to an end, he walked into the drawing-room and shook
hands all round, Mary being particularly warm in her welcome.

"You are very late," said the old lady. "Was there much of a Court at
Ballarook?"

"Only the usual troubles. You know what those courts are. By the way,
Miss Grant, I came over the famous crossing-place where we got turned
out, and nearly had another swim for it. Martin Donohoe and his wife
haven't yet finished talking about how wet you looked."

"I'm sure I haven't finished thinking about it. I don't suppose you had
to swim with anyone on your back this time?"

"No such luck, I'm sorry to say."

"It was very lucky, indeed--that you were there," put in Miss Harriott.
"You are really quite the district hero, Mr. Blake. You will have to
save somebody next, Hugh."

"My word," said Poss, "I've seen Hugh swim in to fetch a sheep, let
alone a lady. You remember, Hugh, the time those old ewes got swept down
and one of 'em was caught on the head of a tree, and you went in--"

"Oh, never mind about that," said Hugh. "Did Pat Donohoe lose anything
out of the coach?"

"Only a side of bacon and a bottle of whisky. The whisky was for old Ned
the 'possum trapper, and they say that Ned walked fourteen miles down
the river in hopes that it might have come ashore. Ned reckons he has
never done any tracking, but if he could track anything it would be
whisky."

"What about going out after 'possums down the garden?" said Binjie.
"