The inspector understood the meaning of Fred’s words too well to hesitate about which course he should pursue.  He knew that his wounds were dangerous, and that they would mortify in a short time, unless dressed and cleansed; for already a crowd of flies were hovering in the air about his head, and ready to plague his life out, the instant we withdrew a short distance.

“I think that I can ride to Ballarat,” the inspector said, after feeling of his leg, and finding that the bleeding had nearly ceased; “at any rate, I cannot remain here through half of the night.  Lift me on to one of the horses, and let me see how I can navigate.”

We raised him gently in our arms, and placed him in my saddle, and to our great satisfaction, we found that after the first paroxysm of pain was over, he could get along very well.  We led the animal upon which he was mounted slowly along the ravine, until we reached our prisoners, who were lying in the same position as when we left them.

Upon the inspector’s thinking that it would be better to take the two uninjured men with us, we cut a portion of their bonds, but still allowed their arms to be confined, and after a hasty examination of the wounds of the two bushrangers, we promised them speedy assistance, and then started on our return to Ballarat.

Our prisoners marched in advance of us, in gloomy silence, for a short distance, but I could observe that the leader, or the man who was called “Bill,” cast anxious glances at the inspector, as though desirous of speaking, yet fearing that his remarks would not be received with much cordiality.  At length he mustered sufficient nerve to exclaim,—­

“It is long since we have met, Mr. Brown.”

“I know that, Bill; yet you have managed to keep your name alive, so that you see I have not forgotten you.”

“I never was a favorite of yours, even while at the hulks,” replied the bushranger, with a gloomy scowl.

“It was your own fault, Bill.  I would have treated you in the manner that the others were treated, had you but given me the chance.  Was not your conduct of the most stubborn and rebellious nature?  Did you not endeavor to excite to mutiny the prisoners of your ward, and when you were detected, how could you hope for mercy at the hands of the prison commissioners?”

“But you flogged me—­flogged me until my back was marked and bruised, and even now the scars are visible.  You tied me up like a dog; you would not hear me, although I begged with tears for death, rather than have the cat touch my back.  I then felt like a man.  After the flogging I was a brute, and ready to avenge my wrongs upon all who crossed my path.”

The outlaw stopped while delivering his remarks, which were uttered with vehement passion, and we were obliged to compel him to move on, so carried away was he with his subject.

“The flogging which was administered to you caused you to murder a miner and his wife, who were journeying towards Melbourne, rejoiced to think that they were worth a few hundred pounds,” continued Mr. Brown, sarcastically.