used for a moment to glance about like a wild beast.
Then, seeing that he was surrounded by mounted police, who covered those
present with their carbines, he hurled the stone with all force at the
nearest man and made a rush to escape, when there were three puffs of
smoke, three reports, and the convict tripped and fell.

Taking advantage of the smoke and excitement, Frank Mayne's adversary
struck at him once more, and made a leap to escape, dragging the
half-insensible assigned servant with him; but the grasp was too
tenacious, and though he tried hard, Mayne held on to the end; only
sinking back when a pair of handcuffs had secured the prisoner's hands
behind his back.

"Now then, you with the gun there, surrender!" shouted the man who led
the mounted police.

This to the convict who had confined his fighting to his struggle with
Nic.

"'Course I do," said the man, making a grimace. "That young shaver's
got all the powder and shot: where's the good of an empty gun? Here,
ketch 'old. No, I forgot; it's yourn, young un. Well, how are you
all?"

The police laughed as the man held out his hands for the irons.

"We've had a nice little 'scursion out here, only the nights was rather
cold. Well, Mr Government clerk, you won't have a chance to pull your
friend a topper now. How's old Joe? What, more company?"

This was accompanied by another distortion of the face, as two blacks
came running up, followed by the doctor, the governor, Brookes, and Sir
John's two men.

"Got them?" cried the governor.

"Yes, Sir John," said the leader of the police, whom Nic recognised now
as the chief warder whom he had talked with during the voyage out; "but
we had to shoot one of 'em down."

"Here, quick, 'fore he goes!" said Brookes to the warder, huskily.
"Handcuffs," and he pointed to Mayne.

"Eh? What? Him?" said the warder. "Why, he helped to take one of
'em."

"Yes," cried Nic; "he was fighting to save me."

"I surrender," said Mayne faintly; "I'm satisfied now. Dr Braydon, I
never told you I was an ill-used man, but did my work. Still, I told
your son. Dominic, lad, Heaven is just. That handcuffed hound is my
old fellow-clerk, for whose sins I have suffered all these years. There
are miracles in life, for it fell to me to take him when he was
escaping."

"After he had watched to take your life!" cried Nic. "He was waiting,
you know where? There, Sir John--father, will you believe it now?"

The docto