The Stolen Bride
THE DAYS that followed Bony’s visit to Mount Lion provided much food for thought. The first stage of the case was almost complete, but not quite.
Proof that Marks was dead constituted the first stage. The nature of the silver plate was vouched for by Sir Alfred Worthington, but as evidence of Marks’s death it was not absolutely conclusive. Assuming that further evidence was obtained which would emphatically establish that Marks was dead, the finger of fate steadily pointed to Dot and Dash as the murderers, for not only was Marks’s money discovered buried in the fireplace of the partners’ camp, but also the kangaroos shot by Dot had been burned where had been discovered a boot-sprig, suggesting that a human body had been disposed of by burning as well as those of the kangaroos.
As the case now stood Bony was just short of sufficient evidence to prove that Marks was dead. Nor did he think he was justified in arresting the partners on suspicion of murder, although they could be arrested for having concealed Marks’s money. On that ground he would have ordered their arrest had it not been for the fact that the man seen by Ludbi fighting Marks and revealed through Moongalliti by Illawalli wasneither Dash nor Dot.
The coming of Mrs Thomas had disarranged the threads the half-caste was disentangling so laboriously. Certain facts regarding her supplied by Headquarters indicated that Marks was not killed for his money. Now had arisen a suspicion that the motive of the crime was far deeper than the lust for material gain-if Jeffrey Stanton had been christened Joseph and his father’s surname wasNorth.
In her youth Mrs Thomas had figured in a romance that had gained for her much newspaper publicity, as well as the deep interest of the police. This romance had occurred forty years before. Mrs Thomas’s maiden name was Green, and she was the daughter of a small selector who lived a few miles out of Louth, on the River Darling. At the age of eighteen Rose Green was a very pretty girl, and, as was natural, was much sought after by the young men of the district. Her favours apparently were bestowed about equally on Joseph North, a young but prosperous boss-drover, and ThomasThomas, who owned a neighbouring selection. Of these two young men the girl’s parents preferred the latter.
The parental preference may have decided Rose Green eventually to give her hand to Joseph North, for she was a wilful girl, and in the opinion of that time considered bold. She promised to marryNorth when he returned from a droving trip that was expected to last seven weeks, and before he left he bought a plot of land in Louth and made arrangements with a Wilcannia builder to erect a wooden house.
North having gone off on his trip with six thousand sheep, the Greens brought pressure to bear on the daughter in favour of ThomasThomas. Rose Green at last surrendered, and the arrangements for the wedding were hastened to ensure that when North returned it would be too late for the girl to change her mind again. It was too late, even thoughNorth arrived back a week earlier than was expected.
It appears that he knew nothing of his sweetheart’s altered programme until he entered the hotel at Louth to pay off his men and groom himself before rushing to his adored one. On that same day Rose Green was married to ThomasThomas. North entered Louth precisely one hour after the bridal-party left the township for the wedding-breakfast at the bride’s former home.
Besides the bride and groom there were seated at that breakfast no fewer than fourteen people. It was the last day of June, and, the weather being cold, the feast was eaten in the main room of the house. The room was crowded. The chatter of the guests was enlivened by a thirty-six-gallon cask of beer set on a stand in a corner. It was a day of days. Everyone was exhilarated, especially the men. And then in upon them walked Joseph North holding in each hand a nickel-plated man-size revolver.
In appearanceNorth was the superior of the bridegroom. He wore a navy-blue serge suit of the then fashionable cut. On his feet were tan shoes, and on his head a black bowler hat. In the lapel of his coat was a single white rose. Apparently he would have appeared thus had he actually led Rose Green to the altar.
Filling in the blanks, Bony easily visualized the scene that followed. The half-caste’s sympathies were entirely with Joseph North, then and throughout. North threatened to shoot any person there who attempted to rise from his or her seat. Doubtless the young man’s facial expression was extremely earnest, for not one disobeyed him, not even ThomasThomas himself when he was minutely instructed in the task of binding his guests to their chairs with lengths of rope, undoubtedly brought there by the jilted North. Afterwards he had the unique experience of being himself bound to a chair by his bride of an hour.
“I think you will be fairly secure for some time,” North told them in general. To the girl’s mother he said: “You tricked me, didn’t you? You knew that I was making a home for Rose, yet you bullied her into marrying Thomas. Had Rose been given a fair chance to decide between me and Thomas, and she had chosen Thomas, I’d have said nothing. But no, not only did you bully her into marrying Thomas, but you stopped word reaching me, and it was only because I got through my contract a week ahead that I got back to Louth to-day.
“It was lucky for me that I did get back, for now Rose is as much mine as ever she was. A few words spoken by a parson don’t amount to much. I’m wearing my bridegroom’s clothes, and I’m going to be Rose’s bridegroom. She is going away with me as my bride. Rosie, get your hat and put on a pair of riding-boots.”
“I won’t! You must think I’m mad,” objected the bride.
“All right, come as you are, then!”
Amidababel of lurid language from the men and shrill invective from the women, Rose Green began to cry. Yet the hubbub and the tears had no effect on Joseph North. He took the girl by the arm and led her out of the house dressed in her wedding finery and without hat or coat. Afterwards the listening guests heard the thudding of horses’ hoofs growing fainter and fainter, and when the first of them freedhimself and hastily freed the others, they rushed out to see no sign of North or the bride.
The police were informed. Search-parties were organized. Every station homestead in the State was frantically telephoned for news. All Australia was thrilled and delighted by the story, which was headlined “The Stolen Bride”.
Yet neither the bride nor her abductor was traced. The great heart of Australia had swallowed them utterly. Weeks became months, and months became a year. It was three o’clock in the morning of the first of July in the following year that the licensee of the hotel at Louth heard horses’ hoofs outside his bedroom window. A minute later his front door was thumped by a human fist. Partially dressed, he took a hurricane-lamp and went to open the door. On unbolting, he heard again the sound of horses’ hoofs passing along the road. Mystified, he opened his door and, holding aloft his lamp, saw a figure crouched on the low veranda without. The figure was bowed, and from it came sobs. And when he lowered the lamp and gently raised the bowed head, he looked into the face of Mrs Thomas, nee Green.
“Return of the Stolen Bride” was the star attraction of the papers for weeks. Yet beyond the headings there was but little news, for Mrs Thomas resolutely declined to say one word of what had befallen her during the twelve months. It was she who insisted that the warrant for the arrest of North should be withdrawn. It was she who told a sergeant of police to stop worrying her with fool questions and to mind his own blank business. It was she who went to ThomasThomas and informed him that since he was her husband it was his duty to support her.
Apparently Thomas accepted the responsibility, for the “Stolen Bride” lived with him until his death, fifteen years later. He left her some four thousand pounds, and nine thousand in trust for their son, aged twelve years. The seasons being good, the selection was sold for a further two thousand five hundred, and Mrs Thomas then migrated to Sydney, where she went into the hotel business. She had prospered, and at the time of her coming to Windee was the licensee of a popular sportsmen’s hotel in George Street.
A remarkable woman, Bony considered her. A strong woman, for never a word had escaped her regarding that year’s sojourn with North in Central Australia.
At that time North would be about twenty-three years old. He was an active man, a good horseman, abstemious in his habits, and careful of his money. He was of medium height, with grey eyes and black hair. Stanton was of medium height, and his eyes were grey. Marion Stanton’s hair was black.
Was Stanton Joseph North? If so, had the business that had brought Green, alias Marks, to Windee something to do with the abduction of the bride forty years before? It seemed feasible that the brother had come to Windee to execute some scheme, and, since he had failed and disappeared, the sister had come to make inquiries. The future appeared pregnant with drama. The tangled skein was even more hopelessly entangled by Fate.
Bony waited expectantly for something to happen. In Time’s cupboard lay a skeleton than only Time would bring to light. Bony went on working at his sheep-yards, assisted by the cheerful Jack Withers. Yet nothing happened. Mrs Thomas apparently settledherself for a prolonged stay, yet, when Bony was beginning to think that she had become a fixture at Windee, she suddenly departed, being driven into Mount Lion in Mr Bumpus’s car, which she had bespoken by telephone.
The perplexed Bony still waited patiently.