Australia -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Killing of the elderly -- Fiction
There was a threat in this which I could not endure. And indeed, for
myself, I did not care how soon I might be annihilated. England,
with unsurpassed tyranny, had sent out one of her brutal modern
inventions, and threatened us all with blood and gore and murder
if we did not give up our beneficent modern theory. It was the
malevolent influence of the intellect applied to brute force,
dominating its benevolent influence as applied to philanthropy. What
was the John Bright to me that it should come there prepared to send
me into eternity by its bloodthirsty mechanism? It is an evil sign of
the times,--of the times that are in so many respects hopeful,--that
the greatest inventions of the day should always take the shape of
engines of destruction! But what could I do in the agony of the
moment? I could but show the coolness of my courage by desiring the
coachman to drive on.
"For God's sake, don't!" said Crasweller, jumping up.
"He shan't stir a step," said Bunnit to the bar-keeper.
"He can't move an inch," replied the other. "We know what our
precious lives are worth; don't we, Mr Bunnit?"
What could I do? "Mr Second Lieutenant, I must hold you responsible
for this interruption," said I.
"Exactly so. I am responsible,--as far as stopping this carriage
goes. Had all the town turned out in your favour, and had this
gentleman insisted on being carried away to be buried--"
"Nothing of that kind," said Crasweller.
"Then I think I may assume that Captain Battleax will not fire his
gun. But if you will allow me, I will ask him a question." Then he
put a minute whistle up to his mouth, and I could see, for the first
time, that there hung from this the thinnest possible metal wire,--a
thread of silk, I would have said, only that it was much less
palpable,--which had been dropped from the whistle as the lieutenant
had come along, and which now communicated with the vessel. I had,
of course, heard of this hair telephone, but I had never before
seen it used in such perfection. I was assured afterwards that one
of the ship's officers could go ten miles inland and still hold
communication with his captain. He put the instrument alternately to
his mouth and to his ear, and then informed me that Captain Battleax
was desirous that we should all go home to our own houses.
"I decline to go to my own house," I said. The lieutenant shrugged
his shoulders. "Coachman, as soon as the crowd has dispersed itself,
you will drive on." The coachman, who was an old assistant in my
establishment, turned round and looked at me aghast. But he was soon
put out of his trouble. Bunnit and the bar-keeper took out the horses
and proceeded to lead them down the hill. Crasweller, as soon as he
saw this, said that he presumed he might go back, as he could not
possibly go on. "It is but three miles for us to walk," I said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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