“You are Americans?” he asked, with an air of politeness.

“We claim that land as our home,” Fred answered.

“I might have guessed as much, for you both carry an emblem of your country.”

He pointed to our rifles and smiled.  We saw that he was disposed to be rational, and therefore laid aside our reserve.

“There are but few of our people,” I said, “but know how to handle these weapons; and it’s rare that they venture into an unknown country without one for a companion.”

“I think so; for I have met a number of Americans in Australia, and yet every one clings to his rifle.  But, while we are talking, the woman is suffering.  Maurice, assist to take her into the hut, and open a vein if you think it necessary.”

The man addressed as Maurice gave his bridle to a companion and dismounted.  The convict and the stranger raised her in their arms, and removed the unfortunate beneath the rude roof, where at least she could be screened from the sun.

“Well, Smith, what is there new in these parts?” inquired the lieutenant, carelessly.  “Seen any thing of Black Darnley and his gang, lately?  I understand that you have been seen conversing with him a number of times recently.  Take care—­I give you fair warning; if I report you, your ticket of leave is withdrawn.”

“But you wouldn’t do that?” cried Smith, his face showing the alarm which he felt at the threat.

“I don’t know but that it will be my duty to do so before long,” cried the officer, shaking his head like a petty tyrant, who wished to inspire fear.

“I have been two days on the road,” he continued, “searching for his gang.  If you can give me any information, Smith, that is of real value, why, perhaps—­”

“But I can give information,” cried Smith, who, awed by the great man’s presence, appeared to have forgotten all about the death of Darnley.

“Ah! of the scamp’s gang?” the officer asked, with eagerness.

“Where are they?” demanded the lieutenant, leading Smith one side.

“Six of them are dead—­and with them, Black Darnley,” cried Smith.

“You are trifling with me,” said the officer, sternly.

“No—­upon my word; but ask the Americans, they will tell you all.”

“Is it so?” asked the policeman, turning towards us with an air entirely changed from that with which he had first addressed us.

We confirmed the report, and gave the particulars.

He listened to us with astonishment; and yet his wonder was not unmixed with admiration.  I saw him try to suppress that feeling, but it would find vent, John Bull like, and with an oath he exclaimed,—­

“By G——! you Americans are a wonderful people.  You seek adventures with as much gusto as a knight-errant of the olden times.  If I had a dozen such as you two under my charge, I’d soon free this neighborhood of bushrangers.”

“There would be but one difficulty,” answered Fred, with a laugh.