* * *
Jim Hawkins was pulling some carrots from the vegetable garden with William and Matilda when he noticed the short, bow-legged Ben Willis walking through the gate with his shotgun tucked under his arm. Ben had the run of the property for the trapping and snaring rights and in return Jim had him keep an eye out for anybody who shouldn’t be there. Ben guarded the place as if it was his own, and he was a very good bushman. He had originally been sent out from England for poaching. He had served his time as a convict and had adopted this wide, brown land as his home. He noticed the concerned look on his whiskery face.
“Can I talk to you, Mr Hawkins?” asked Ben, tipping his sweat-stained hat to Matilda.
Jim walked over to where Ben was standing. Matilda noticed that Ben looked her way just for an instant as he spoke to her father in a low tone. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“I wonder what that is all about?” said Matilda, standing beside William.
“He has probably seen someone on the property.”
“Like who?”
“It could be anyone, poachers or even a bushranger. They drift into the district every now and then.”
“I’ve already met some of the local bushrangers.”
“Father seems to be getting worse lately, you know how he is.”
Matilda had always felt that the family lived under some kind of shadow. As a young girl she was never allowed to mix with other children of her own age, except for the aboriginal children. Very rarely did she or the family go into Gladstone. And her father always kept a gun handy, at home, in the paddock, or in the bush. He said it was in case any bushrangers turned up. Maybe her father was right, had she not been robbed by a pair of dangerous bushrangers?
Later that day, Jim found time to be alone with Lillian. William and Matilda had gone for a ride around the property.
Lillian sat quietly as Jim paced the floor in front of her. He told her what Ben had seen. “He had a telescope.”
“Then he would have seen Matilda. He isn’t stupid, Jim. He will put two and two together and come up with four.”
“He can’t prove anything,” replied Jim.
“He doesn’t need to.”
“We will have to keep Matilda on the property.”
“We can’t keep her here, Jim. Matilda is a young woman now. She needs to be able to live her life.”
“It might be time to tell her the truth,” said Jim as he stopped pacing the floor and stared down at Lillian. She looked up at Jim. He saw the anguish in her good eye and the concern on her still scarred face.