The Sin of Angels [A tale.] By the author of 'A Vicar's Wife.'

Prologue

IT was seven o'clock on a morning in January. A spring-cart was jolting slowly along a rough Bush road towards the township of Ringabudgery. A slim girl held the reins, which she jerked irritably from time to time, urging the unwilling leg-weary mare by harsh ejaculations : " Get up, Fairy ! " — " Now then, old fool ! " and such like. The animal heeded her very little, being accustomed to an accompaniment of urgency and abuse on all the journeys she was forced to make ; whip or spur had few terrors for Fairy ; a cut across the ears would stir her for a short space to an ungraceful canter, but even ears harden under ill-usage, and she maintained for the most part a walking pace of about four miles an hour. On the floor of the cart, his legs dangling over the broken flap at the back, sat a boy of about ten years of age, reading a book — at the side trotted a young foal, constrained by no other force than the attraction of its mother in the shafts ; its food supply being in progress marketwards to Ringabudgery, the colt E followed without hesitation.

Already the day was hot. The white sandy track threw up a burning breath, and the rays of the fierce sun beat down, a solid scorching stream, from which was no escape. Irrepressible flies buzzed and settled, thick and stinging, on every living or moving thing. The road, a mere waggon-track, unbounded by any kind of fence lay through miles of level grazing-land, on which the coarse herbage grew bleached and colourless ; considerable tracts were entirely cleared from tree or shrub, acres were still encumbered by large dead timber which stood, gaunt and silvery, a skeleton army, stretching bony limbs up to the fiery blue sky, or lay as it had fallen — years after ring-barking — immense ashen trunks, splintered, rotting dryly back to earth. In some parts trees had been allowed to live, big pale gums, with pale bluish leaves set sideways to the sun, a scant disproportionate foliage at its best, and grown so high on the mighty contorted branches that only the boles gave what could be called shadow.

Undergrowth there was none, but at rare intervals a sweet perfume as of almonds, from some lonely wattlebush in bloom, overcame for a moment the fresh pungent smell of eucalyptus, which filled the air. Occasionally a few sheep, small well-shaped beasts, whose wool was brownish, and lay in rolls at the throat, scampered off at the approach of the cart, or a flock of a dozen parroquets, beautiful brilliant birds, with an effect as of flying jewels, screeched their way to a distant bough. Suddenly the girl sprang to her feet, hitting out at something with the lash of the whip.

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" Leave that now, Sally ! " cried the boy, angry that she startled him, looking up from his book, " always at yer monkey-tricks ! " She laughed with malicious glee. " A big go-anna ! I copped him on the tail just as he scooted ! " she replied, and added : " I'd as soon ride with a death's-head as you, Pat." " An' I'd as soon ride with a bag o' fleas as you ! " he retorted. " Git out o' yer book, anyhow, and open the gate, I suppose yer can leave yer readin' for as long as that," said Sally, as the mare, without coercion, stopped abruptly a yard or two short of a five-barred wooden gate, on which the number 90 was painted large. Wire-fencing, barbed, ran off from it on either side, and at right angles to their track lay a fairly good high-road, beyond which was grazing-land, as before. The boy jumped down.

The attendant foal, seizing the happy moment, rushed to its mother for refresh ment, seeing which, Pat took his book and withdrew with it into the shade under the cart, remarking as he did so : " Let the thing have its dinner.' " Dinner this time o' day ! " jeered Sally, but consenting, she sat beating away the flies with a branch of eucalyptus, and looking languidly round in search of any — the least — entertainment. There was very little. A great crow wailed hoarsely over their heads ; a few lizards darted about a fallen tree trunk ; the grasshoppers screamed with throbbing shrillness in the white grass. Her eyes fell on a small round hole in the parched ground: "Pat! Pat the reader ! tickle the spider out o' that hole for me," she cried, pointing to it. " It's too hot to git down and do it myself."

He seemed to find the invitation attractive, and emerging, he poked a twig into the little opening. Up came a black spider, in great agitation. " Just as glib as last time ; seems he's one o' the many folk who never learns by experience," said the boy, with a wise air. His sister leant down over him as he knelt, and gave him a vigorous push ; taken by surprise, he rolled over, head and face well in the dust. Her malicious laughter rang out again : " Seems there's more o' that kind o' folk here to day," she remarked. " I'll teach yer ! " shouted the boy, up, and in a threatening attitude, but she confronted him with the butt of the whip, and dared him to risk a conflict. Sulkily, with mutterings, he returned to his obscurity below the cart, where he was no sooner established than she called upon him to open the gate and let them get on — she was not going to waste all the day there, either for him or the foal.

The reluctant mare was flicked and dragged into motion, and turning into the high-road, the journey was continued as before. Even at their slow rate of progress the dust rose in clouds round them. The wide plains, stretching away on the east and north to a range of sharply toothed blue hills, twenty miles or more distant, presented not one striking point. Two bearded, travel-stained men, tramping slowly, each with a roll of blanket on his back, carrying a tin pot in

PROLOGUE.

one hand, and smoking a short pipe, came towards them. " Mornin', swaggies ! " cried Sally. They looked at her from under the slouched brims of broken felt hats, and passed on indifferently. In need of distraction, the girl flicked the colt about the legs, to make it dance, and as it moved to a safe distance, she began to sing in a thin sweet voice a song which a year before had held London musichalls in rapt attention. The boy forced his fingers into his ears, and with his elbows kept his book within the shadow of his coat. Gradually there appeared signs of habitation, an occasional wooden shanty, with a bit of garden or cultivated land round it, with a few fruit-trees, and perhaps a weeping-willow of fine growth, whose greenness, among the general monotone, seemed garish even in its beauty : then a wooden tavern, before which a team of horses stood resting, while the men in charge squatted on their heels in the verandah, smoking.

Just beyond, a wide wooden bridge crossed a small river, low in its bed and slow in its current, with stony banks clearly defined by long lines of sheoaks, which stretched away to right and left. Clattering over the bridge, the little company was in the township of Ringabudgery, in the main street of it, which lay through a quarter of a mile to the railway-station, and ceased. Passing a few poor shops, a good-sized General Store, a Bank, a Post-office, and a white stone Church, Fairy stopped without compulsion before the chief tavern of the place, which announced itself in large letters as the ' Imperial Arms Hotel.' Like the rest of the township, it was built of wood, with a roof of corru gated iron, but it was two storeys in height, and round three sides of each storey there were wide verandahs, and a pair of graceful pepper-trees flanked the door ; the establishment was considered very handsome.

A well-dressed man, whose clothes were of English make, whose beard was of French cut, sat in a bamboo chair under one of the pepper-trees. A fine brilliant sparkled on his white hand as he slowly passed his lighted cigar backwards and forwards under his thick aquiline nose, breathing in its fragrance, which was of high excellence ; but there was a cloud about his full brown eyes. The ' Imperial Arms Hotel ' pro vided little that could satisfy the luxurious. He had lain on a bad feather-bed in a musty little room that hummed with mosquitoes ; he had failed to cleanse or refresh himself by means of a little water in a little basin ; he had unsuccessfully tried to breakfast, in company with one or two Bushmen, on tea that had been apparently boiled, chops that had been apparently seared in a pan of tallow, eggs that were quite tasteless, and squares of, apparently, blackened woollen material, offered by name as toast.

Butter there had been none — the thermometer forbade it. Jam there had indeed been — dark and thick with flies ; but the average European rarely retains his early liking for jam. Mr. Lewis Rosenroth was very ill-pleased, but being a diplomatic man, he said nothing. His visit to Ringabudgery was for business ends, and he never quarrelled unless there was some thing to be gained by it. He ordered a buggy and

PROLOGUE.

pair to be got ready for him, and comforted himself in the perfection of his tobacco. As he sat he watched the slow approach of Sally and her equipage, and her cloud of dust, and a smile twinkled over his face when the stiff jaded animal, whom he heard called Fairy, stood still before him, and her long-legged foal rushed at her, keen on nourishment. The driver stood up, turned, nicked her brother's hat from his head into the road, crying, " Leave yer sickenin' readin' ! " and leaped to the ground herself. The boy followed his hat, and as he picked it up, caught the amused eye of Mr. Rosenroth. His cheek flushed scarlet under its brown, and with a sharp pang of birth, hatred sprang up in his heart, unreasoning, strong. With his book under his arm he swaggered to the verandah, and threw himself down to read again.

" Boss in ? " inquired Sally, brief but pleasant. " I hope," answered Mr. Rosenroth, smiling, " that the boss is getting a trap ready for me." " Stayin' 'ere ? " " Last night." The stranger was looking at Sally with an expression which changed from interest to astonishment, and ended in queer admiration. " What is your name, young lady ? " he asked. " Sarah Derrigan — Sally, if ye like it better." " Well, Sally, I am pleased to meet you. You are a very pretty girl." She was tall and extremely slim, as lithe and easy in her movements as a wild animal. Her small head was beautifully set on her slight sunburnt throat ; her brows and nostrils were delicate and clearly cut ; her dark blue eyes were very deep under a broad forehead ; splendid teeth flashed whitely as she laughed back to him, and through all the wear of weather it was plain that the tones of her complexion were naturally those of an English hedge-rose.

" I think I'm too skinny ! " " Time will alter that," answered Mr. Rosenroth. " Time doesn't treat every one the same way. It's made a skeleton of mother, and a whisky-barrel of father." " Where do your mother and father live ? " " Over there, fourteen miles nearer the New Ouantocks — Bundoran is our place's name." " Wot ha' we got to do with stryngers, pryin' ? " cried Pat, getting up and coming towards them in a fury. " It's no business o' this feller's, anything 'bout us. Let's 'a done 'ere, and get on 'ome ! " " Go and find Mr. McNulty, then," answered his sister, " and don't insult the gentleman." " Who's a gentleman ? Wot's a gentleman ? We don't want no gentlemen in Ringabudgery ! " The landlord, a stout man with a bibulous figure, came out of the hotel, and spoke to Mr. Rosenroth. " It's no horses yez get this mornin', sur, I am thinking.

They're off entoirely." " But I must have horses, and quickly too, my friend," answered the guest, in his soft thick tones, speaking with the guttural R. "Thin yez welcome to go and catch thim yersilf, in the paddocks between this and Dead Man's Gully," was the reply — that of a public entertainer

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whose food and drink had been disdained — whose pride was vexed. " Are there no other horses I could hire ? " asked Mr. Rosenroth, without apparent resentment. " There's the whole township before yez — go and see," said the landlord. Mr. Rosenroth looked at the miserable street, lying white and torrid in the sunlight. He realized rapidly the probable stable resources of the Bank, the Post office, the General Store, the Church, and the two or three wooden huts where inferior fruit and currant cakes were exposed for sale — and his eyes blackened with rage at his own powerlessness. He turned and pointed to the advertisement over the door — "/What do you mean then by that — ' Horses and carriages for hire ' ? " " An' the buggy an' the spring-cart is in the shed, and the horses await yer oon catchin', sur, in the paddocks."

Mr. McNulty grinned, and presented a fat back in withdrawal. "Pat! "cried Sally, "go and catch the horses for the gentleman ! " "Ah yes, my man, you get them for me, and I'll give you a couple of shillings for your trouble." Mr. Rosenroth's tone betrayed relief of mind — his eye grew milder. " Think yer see me at it, down't yer ? " cried the boy. " Do yer own work and kape yer own shil lin's." He folded his arms over his book, and stood defiant. "Well then, I'm blest if I don't go after 'em for yer myself," said Sally, " and as for you, Pat, we'll settle up later." She turned to start, then suddenly : " Where do you want to go to, at all ? " "To Mr. McKay's station at Five Corners Flat." "See that now! Get into our cart, then, and I'll take yer there. That'll be yer best plan. It ain't no joke, sometimes, catchin' horses.

Think Fairy ain't up to it ? I assure you she'll put forty mile behind her in the day and do another forty to-morrow. She ain't fast, but, my word ! she's strong." " It's my trap as much as yours, and I don't allow it to carry stryngers ! " screamed the inveterate boy, placing himself between his sister and the unattractive vehicle. Sally ignored him, and continued : " You'd best, mister. The Bank has got a buggy, but they're a horse short, leastways they were last Wednesday ; Mr. Grant at the Store will have all his carts out round — and if ye go to borrow McCracken's from over the bridge, why, I'd sooner ride behind a bullock, and he'll charge yer for all he's worth." Her face was eager, her white teeth shone as she spoke ; through a rent in the brim of her shabby straw hat the sunlight fell upon her hair, burnishing its gold into brilliance, and as, with raised arm, she showed the direction of the establishment she deprecated, her action was extraordinarily supple and charming.

Mr. Rosenroth was conscious of a sudden desire to clasp the delicate figure, which seemed to promise a bewitching subtlety in clinging. " I accept your offer, Sally, with thanks," he said. " I down't allow it ! It's not her cart ! " shrieked

PROLOGUE.

Pat, flying to Fairy's head and seizing the bridle. "Hold him off, and get in!" commanded his sister, and climbing to the rickety seat, she took up the other end of the reins. The boy, kept out forcibly, kicked Mr. Rosenroth's shins, and struck him violently about the hand and arm. " What shall I do with the young desperado ? " asked the gentleman, in some perplexity. " I cannot get in, and we can hardly get away unless he is quiet ; and if I let him hit me till he is tired, my poor clothes will be utterly unfit for presentation in an unknown house. What are the laws of your strange country ? Do they permit of my tying his limbs together ? " Without reply, Sally jumped down. She caught up her brother's book from where it lay under a pepper-tree, and threw it into the middle of the road, where a small flock of sheep were just trotting wearily on their way to the roasting-jack.

" Let the fool go ! " she commanded, and as he got up beside her, she lashed Fairy freely about the head, and had made a fair start before the boy had made an end of wiping, dusting, and readjusting his beloved chattel after the tread of disfiguring hoofs. " Now," she cried, " if he comes anywhere near, he'll get what for from this whip o' mine. He's the cussedest boy I ever see ! " She reseated herself, her face glowing with satisfaction and excitement. " You are a young lady of resources," said her com panion, admiringly. Then, realizing the ridiculous long-legged foal, which blindly followed its dinner as it had followed its lunch, laughter pealed from him, and he could hardly keep his place in the jolting cart. Sally looked at him, and tossed her head. " When yer've only got one animal," she said, " yer can't keep her idle at home because she's got a foal."

Mr. Rosenroth remembered his obligation, and apologized. " I am very fortunate, in a district where the men are so inhospitable, to find a young lady who is so pretty and so kind," he added. "Oh," said Sally, "it's a change. It's somethin' even to poke Fairy along somewhere that ain't Ring abudgery and back once a week, with the tea and the flour and the sugar." "You will not get into trouble at home, I hope ? " " If I get back to-night it'll do all right. I milked the cows and set the yeast before I came away." " You must have been up early." "About half-past four. I had to help mother kill the sheep." Her companion shrank a little, and glanced at the hands which had done so rude a deed. They were dark-skinned and rough, but the fingers were long and fine, and the turn of the wrist caused his pulses to quicken with approval of its beauty.

" Can't your father kill the sheep ? " " He does mostly, but he was waking old Mrs. Rafferty the night before last, and it'll take him a day or two to get right again." The girl laughed. " I am not an Australian — I do not understand." " She died, yer know, and they sat up with the

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corpse. But it's the whisky, yer know. Father's a great hand at that," Sally explained, and continued : " Yer a new chum, I suppose ? " " I am lately come to live in Sydney." " Where 'a yer lived before ? " " In many places. You know very little about any of them, I expect — in Germany when I was a boy, and a great deal in London, and lately in Java. Have you ever seen kapok ? " "Kapok? that cottony stuff? I saw some once at Grant's. Is that yer business ? Are yer goin' to sell kapok to McKay at Five Corners Flat ? " "You are very quick — very intelligent, Sally. You can read, of course ? " " Lor' bless you, yes, read and write and do sums : public school takes care o' that; but Pat's the boy for readin', his head's never out o' a book, though he gits the stick for it till we're sick o' beatin' him.

Politics and the land it is with him now — some o' McKay's shearers set him on that ; but I like music, I do, and dancin', and seein' people and things, and I'd rather have a real fast horse to ride " " You can ride, then ? " " I'd ride the devil if I could get on him ! Ride — ride — I'd ride to Sydney, this afternoon, to hear the band play, and see the ladies an' their dresses, and the ships in the harbour an' their flags ! Huh ! Father thinks it's the grandest thing in the world for a woman to be a free selector's wife — so he tells mother." " And what does she say ? " " Why, when she says anything it ain't that ; grand father wor a baker in South Shields, and sometimes she says she never thought she would come to this. Father's a selector, yer know. Selected on McKay's land, 'cos he hates McKay, and sticks to it.

McKay owns a sight o' land round here." " Are we on his property now ? " Yes." The landscape did not vary. The burning sun was more vertical, but white box-trees, and white grass plains, drab sheep, lizards, and crows, and an occasional cockatoo, summed up the salient features of the drive then as earlier. The dusty road wound north instead of south, so that the glare was upon their faces ; but to Sally all was different. That rare and desirable thing, a stranger, was at her side — her own property for the time, — a stranger, moreover, whose hands were white, whose beard was thick and glossy, about whose clothes was an agreeable perfume. "See now, mister," she said, suddenly. "I've done yer a good turn, bringin' yer here. Don't yer forget me when you're back in Sydney. I'm quick and I'd be willin' for somethin' as young lady in a shop — my word, I'd rather sell papers in the streets o' Sydney than die at Bundoran " — she looked at him beseechingly.

" Sally," said Mr. Rosenroth, slowly, " if I promise to get something for you to do in Sydney, will you give me a kiss now ? " " No," she answered, " I won't, but when I've got the somethin' in Sydney you may ask me again." "And shall I get it then?" he asked, and felt in imagination her slim suppleness clinging to him. "You may — you may only get what Fairy gets!"

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she flourished the whip round her head, cracked it on the ground with a noise as of a pistol-shot, then lashed the unwilling mare into an ungainly canter. Mr. Lewis Rosenroth drew off, wedged himself firmly into a corner of the shaking cart, and sat thinking with his pith hat tilted forward over his eyes.

Chapter I It

was ten years since, at a public dinner given in his honour, Mr. Lewis Rosenroth had been happily named the Kapok King, and his health had been drunk on that understanding. In New South Wales, as in older countries, much is expected of the wife of the high aristocrat, but Mrs. Lewis Rosenroth was in no way disappointing. Her beauty was con spicuous ; her health was enviable ; her brains clear and keen ; her age still young ; and all these inestimable forces she devoted to the service and maintenance of the tough though airy fabric known as fashionable society. It is a kingdom of the conception, whose laws, being unwritten, are inviolable ; whose foundations, being the concentrated female will, can hardly be shaken ; which touches the material plane at one point only — that the passport to it may be bought with gold.

Like other kingdoms, its rulers are those who serve it most entirely, and its service is a perfect slavery. The Lewis Rosenroths lived, for half the year, in a large house called Roccabruna, on Bourke's Point, the most costly and the most attractive suburb of Sydney, near to Government House, not far from the heart of the city. Their entertainments were frequent and lavish, their guest-list included much that was official, more that was naval and military, some that was colonial and wealthy, and whenever possible any creature passant and distinguished. In the gay season it was their habit to give a dinner-party once a week, and although it could not be said that all persons of consideration and old standing were willing to join these parties, the number of those prepared to refuse their presence on invitation grew smaller year by year, and Mrs. Lewis Rosenroth had learnt that moderation in invitation which, like all other fruits of experience, is bought by mistakes.

It was an evening in May. Twenty people had dined sumptuously at Roccabruna. The ladies, eight in number, sat in the drawing-room, and practically awaited masculine developments. Mrs. Rosenroth, lounging beautifully in a long low chair, was talking to a guest whose voice and complexion, whose air of energetic repose, proclaimed her English. "You paint, then?" said the hostess. Her tones were cold and thin ; there was some sweetness in them, but chiefly a deliberate indifference which was in disagreement with her constant smile. It is troublesome to smile often, and there seems little reason for doing so when one's words sound even fatigued. " It is almost my favourite work," was the answer, quick and crisp, in a soft voice several notes lower than the other. " Almost ? Oh, you energetic people from the old country !

How many others have you ? " " Oh, I play with the toys of the average young women of my age and race — that is all." 17 c " I know. You take long walks, and climb mountains, and ride to hounds, and carve in wood." 'More or less— I plead guilty. They are all forms of happiness for me. But painting ranks high among them, and I am so anxious to make some really characteristic Australian sketches. You are the very person to advise me how to do it ; Mrs. Rosenroth, please tell me of some quite, quite Australian spots, where nothing is in the least like any other place." " I am one of the worst people you could ask ; I know nothing of my native land. We travel about so much everywhere but in it. When we are not in Sydney we are at Herzruh, and I really do not think there is anything particularly Australian about Herzruh, but you will come and see, I hope."

"Thank you so much. I am sure I shall find something there — geebungs and all sorts of interesting things." " Let me see," said Mrs. Rosenroth, thoughtfully — " what art geebungs ? Do I not hear the gentle men coming in ? They are so enamoured of their tobacco" — she turned her head, and there was a sparkle of diamonds in her hair, and on her neck. " Oh ! it is my brother ! We do not often see him, he despises us too much. He is a Labour Member, and calls himself a carpenter ; he is the member for Taratah" — always smiling, she gave her slight gloved hand to a sparely-built, broad-shouldered young man of about thirty years of age, with a square face, clean shaven, and a square head on which the sandy hair was so closely cut that it seemed almost shaven too. His personality would have been striking in any surroundings, but in a richly-furnished formal drawing room, among a company of ladies in evening dress, his was a strange figure.

He wore thick boots and an ill-made tweed suit, and a crimson tie was loosely fastened under the low collar of a white flannel shirt. "Miss Wavertree — Mr. Derrigan," continued Mrs. Rosenroth, "and, Miss Wavertree, you must please understand that political principles forbid my brother to wear a black coat, except, I think, on Sundays." " Sunday makes no difference in my coat ! " said Derrigan, scarcely acknowledging the lady's bow ; " but if I had known you were not alone this evening, I would not have come." He spoke in a rough un modulated voice, with a hard unpleasing accent — that of a man who has learnt to speak, as he conceives, with no accent at all. " I thought all the world knew that our friends are kind enough to come and dine with us on Fridays," said his sister, smiling, level-toned.

" The world is larger than your Sydney acquaintance," he answered. " I know nothing of their habits, or of yours." " In our ignorances, there is certainly a strong family resemblance between us," said his sister. " Do you not think, Miss Wavertree, that we are a happy family, to see so little of each other ? Most families are far too intimate !" " The modern sense of the adjective ' familiar ' seems to so imply," was the answer ; " but I already know something of the habits of Mr. Derrigan. 1 have met various gentlemen who wore red ties in the evening. There is an unmistakable likeness between them all." " How ? " asked Derrigan, fixing his hard grey eyes upon her, suddenly. " They are all violently anxious to abolish class distinctions, and indeed distinctions of every kind, and they very properly begin at home by wearing a livery which reveals their own species to the most general of the general public — a red tie, and a double-breasted jacket short and quite square, somehow, across the bottom, is often part of it."