Botany Bay | Page 7

sir, it ought to fetch ��1,500 ready money."
"I hear that the whole of Mr. Fisher's property is to be sold, either by auction or private contract."
"Yes, sir."
"What will it realise, think you, in cash?"
"Not under ��12,000 I should say, sir."
"One of my brothers has an idea of bidding for this farm; what about the title?"
"As good as can be, sir. It was originally granted to Colonel Foucaux, who sold it and conveyed it to Mr. Thomas Blaxsell, who sold it and conveyed it to Fisher. But as you know, sir, twenty years' undisputed possession of itself makes a good title, and Fisher has been on this farm far longer than that. All the deeds are here; you may see them, if you please, sir."
"There is no occasion for that; as Mr. Fisher's constituted attorney, you will sign the deed of conveyance on his behalf."
"Yes, sir."
"What is the date of the power of attorney?"
"I will tell you, sir, in one moment"; and opening a bureau which stood in one corner of the room, Mr. Smith produced the deed and placed it in Mr. Cox's hands.
With the signature of Fisher, Mr. Cox was not acquainted; or, at all events he could not swear to it. He had seen it--seen Fisher write his name, it is true; but then it was that sort of hand which all uneducated and out-door working men employ when they write their names--a sprawling round-hand. But as to the signatures of the attesting witnesses there could be no question whatever. They were those of two of the most eminent solicitors (partners) in Sydney--Mr. Cox's own solicitors, in fact.
"And the letter of instructions authorising you to sell by auction, for cash; for it says in this power, 'and to sell the same, or any part thereof, in accordance with such instructions as he may receive from me by letter after my arrival in England.'"
"Here is the letter, sir," said Mr. Smith, producing it.
Mr. Cox read the letter attentively. It ran thus:
"Dear Sir,--I got home all right, and found my friends and relations quite well and hearty, and very glad to see me again. I am so happy among 'em, I shan't go out no more to the colony. So sell all off, by public auction or by private contract, but let it be for cash, as I want the money sharp; I am going to buy a share in a brewery with it. I reckon it ought, altogether, to fetch about ��17,000. But do your best, and let me have it quick, whatever it is.
"Your faithful friend.
"JOHN FISHER."
There was no post mark on this letter. In those days the postage on letters was very high, and nothing was more common for persons in all conditions of life to forward communications by private hands. As to the signature of the letter, it was identical with that of the power of attorney.
"All this is very satisfactory," said Mr. Cox. "Is this letter, dated five months ago, the last you have received?"
"Yes, sir. It came by the last ship, and there has not been another in since."
"Good morning, Mr. Smith."
"Good morning, sir."
CHAPTER VII.
Riding away from Fisher's late abode, Mr. Cox was somewhat perplexed. That power of attorney, drawn up so formally, and signed by Fisher in the presence of such credible witnesses, and then the letter written, signed in the same way by the same hand, were all in favour of the presumption that Fisher had gone to England, leaving his friend and neighbour, Smith, in charge of his property, real and personal. But then, there were the remains! And that they were the remains of Fisher, Mr. Cox firmly believed. When he had returned to the pond, by a circuitous route, Mr. Cox ordered the blacks to strip from a bluegum tree, with their tomahawks, a large sheet of bark. Upon this the remains were placed, carried straightaway to Fisher's house (Mr. Cox, upon horseback, heading the party) and placed on the verandah. While this proceeding was in progress Mr. Smith came out and wore upon his countenance an expression of surprise, astonishment, wonder. But there was nothing in that. The most innocent man in the world would be surprised, astonished, and in wonderment on beholding such a spectacle.
"What is this, Mr. Cox?" he said.
"The last that I have heard and seen of Mr. Fisher," was the reply. "Of Mr. Fisher, sir!"
"Yes."
"These were his old clothes," said Mr. Smith, examining them carefully; "most certainly this was the old suit he used to wear. But as for the body, it can't be his; for he is alive, as you have seen by his letter. These old clothes he must have given away, as he did many other old things, the day before he left this; and the man to whom he gave