same. He won't be able to walk about any more, and sure
that's bad enough for any man to have to put up with, isn't it, Mr.
Wallace? How would you like to have it happen to you now? Having to go
about on a wooden stump or just sit about in the same place from
morning to night and never a chance of stretching a leg or crossing the
road."

"But it's not that at all, Mrs. Burke," Wallace exclaimed impatiently.
"What I said was----"

"Oh, I know, I know," she interrupted. "Well now, don't you think it a
terrible thing for them to be lying out there without a single woman's
hand to soothe them in their agony? Only a doctor to look after them and
maybe a bushman or so to boil a billy and make some tea between whiles.
It's more than I can bear to think of, Mr. Wallace."

"You don't feel faint again, do you?" he asked.

"Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Wallace. Bessie was very good to me. She would
be better out there helping to relieve those poor wounded creatures
instead of idling away her time here, I think; but still, she does her
best, poor thing, such as it is. But do you know what I thought of
doing? As soon as I heard the news I said to myself, there was only one
thing I could do unless I were just a mere bloodless image of a woman.
I'm going to drive straight away now to Taloona and soothe the pain of
those poor unfortunates. It's the sound of a woman's voice that is
cheering to a lonely man when he's in pain, Mr. Wallace."

"Is it?" Wallace said curtly. "I hope you are right, Mrs. Burke, for you
see Mrs. Eustace is there already."

"Mrs. Eustace! Out at Taloona? Mr. Wallace, it's enough to bring down
the wrath of Heaven to think of that woman--that--well, I'll not say
it; but there's her husband robbing me of my papers and the bank of its
money and maybe robbing and murdering that poor old gentleman as well,
and she--she of all women on the face of the earth--nursing his victims
back for him to slay a second time. Sure, I'd--oh, I'd--I don't know
what I wouldn't do, Mr. Wallace, to a woman like that."

"It will be an interesting meeting between you," Wallace observed drily.
"I am sorry I cannot come to see it."

"But it's not the old gentleman she's after, Mr. Wallace. I suppose they
robbed him of his gold?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Burke."

"Oh, you may be sure they did. So there's no more to be had out of him;
but what would it be worth to that villain of a husband of hers if
Sub-Inspector Durham were below ground?