The Ghost Camp or the Avengers by Rolf Boldrewood

Author:Rolf Boldrewood [Boldrewood, Rolf]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

No scorching droughts, no devastating floods, no destructive cyclones harassed the rural population. Mr. Blount amused himself with daily drives through the suburbs, within such distances as were accessible in an afternoon. Having been much struck with the action of a pair of cab-horses which he took for his first drive, he arranged for their services daily during his stay in Hobart. Of one—a fine brown mare, occupying the “near” side in the pair—he became quite enamoured; the way in which she went up the precipitous road to Brown’s River, and down the same on the return journey, without a hint from the driver, stamped her, in his estimation, as an animal of exceptional quality.

The metalled road, too, was not particularly smooth, albeit hard enough to try any equine legs. On inquiring the price the owner put on the pair, he was surprised to find it was but £35. Twenty pounds for his favourite, and fifteen for her less brilliant companion—useful and stanch though she was, and a fair match for shape and colour. He immediately closed the bargain, and thought he should enjoy the feeling of setting up his own carriage, so to speak; a barouche, too, chintz-lined, as are most of the cabs of Hobart—obsolete in fashion, but most comfortable as hackney carriages.

Before the fortnight expired, to which he limited his holiday, he was sensible of a slight, a very slight, change of feeling, though he would have indignantly repelled any imputation of disloyalty to Imogen. But it was not in human nature for a man of his age, still on the sunny side of thirty, to live among bevies of, perhaps, the handsomest women in Australasia, by whom he found himself to be cordially welcomed, without a slight alleviation of the feeling of gloom, if not despair, into which the absence of any recognition of his letters from Bunjil had thrown him. Moreover, the reports of the richness of the Comstock mine, confirmed, even heightened, by every letter from Tregonwell, were in all the local papers.

“A gentleman, lately arrived from Europe and touring the colonies, now staying at the Tasmanian Club, was known to be one of the original shareholders. And if so, his income could not be stated at less than £10,000 a year. It was by the merest chance that Mr. Valentine Blount (such is the name, we are informed, of this fortunate personage) bought an original share in the prospecting claim, which must be regarded henceforth as the ‘Mount Morgan’, of Tasmania. Mr. Blount is a relative of Lord Fontenaye of Tamworth, where the family possesses extensive estates, tracing their descent, it is asserted, in an uninterrupted line from the impetuous comrade of Fitz Eustace, immortalised in Marmion.”

Valentine Blount, it may well be believed, if popular before this announcement, became rapidly more so, reaching, indeed, the giddy eminence of the lion of the day. Rank he was declared to possess, heir-presumptive to a baronetcy, or indeed an earldom, as well-informed leaders of society claimed to know, with a large income at present, probably an immense fortune in the future.

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