The Night They Stormed Eureka Read Online Free

digging, and we’ll get the gold off them.’
    ‘Not stealing?’ Had she saved a pair of thieves from a bushranger? Suddenly the dumplings felt like mud in her stomach.
    ‘Certainly not! Stealing? The very idea.’ Mrs Puddleham looked just a bit too innocent. ‘It’s me cooking,’ she added proudly. ‘Mr P and me runs the best cook shop on the diggings. We sells the food and they gives us their gold. Stew like none of them diggers have tasted before. None o’ your rat, neither, pretending that it’s chicken. Welsh cakes so light they float off the plate, and cold puddin’ on Sundays, seeing as how it ain’t right to cook on the Sabbath, not to mention most o’ the men bein’ on the grog Saturday night and still so woozy Sunday morning they’ll pay us threepence a slice. Wish the whole month were Sundays, sometimes, we makes so much for so little.’
    ‘Um, that’s wonderful,’ said Sam.
    Mrs Puddleham nodded happily. ‘Another few months an’ we’ll have enough money to buy one o’ they fancy hotels down in Melbourne, with velvet seats in the dining room and a separate bed for every cove what wants one, with proper sheets and everything.’
    So the Puddlehams were rich? Or were going to be? A hotel with buttered toast, thought Sam. And maybe the shaggy dog …
    ‘Which is why we were headed to Higgins’s farm, miss, er, Sam,’ said Mr Puddleham, ‘when you so bravely rescued us. Mrs Puddleham and I need to buy more provisions. The prices on the diggings are scandalous, and it’s a day’s walk to the farm and back. So if you’ll excuse us we’d best be off there or we won’t be home before sundown.’
    He stood up, swept off his top hat, and bowed. ‘My utmost thanks again for our deliverance. It is an honour to have met you.’
    ‘Oh.’ Sam shivered. They were so kind. And funny. Suddenly the thought of being alone in a strange place and a strange time was almost too much. But she’d handled the bushranger, hadn’t she? She could cope …
    ‘It — it was very nice to meet you too,’ she began, trying to match Mr Puddleham’s polite tone. ‘Maybe we’ll meet again —’
    ‘Meet again! What nonsense.’ There was an almost hungry look in Mrs Puddleham’s eye that Sam couldn’t understand, but she was determined too. The woman took a deep breath. ‘You’re coming with us. Ain’t that right, Mr P?’
    The big woman looked from her husband to Sam then back again. This time her gaze was like a challenge to them both. ‘Like a daughter, seeing as how Mr P and me ain’t got no kith nor kin, nor chicks of our own, despite how much we’ve yearned for one —’
    ‘Ahem.’ Mr Puddleham coughed as though to stop any too-embarrassing confidences. ‘Perhaps we should give this some thought, Mrs Puddleham.’
    Mrs Puddleham’s red hands pressed against her bosom. ‘No, Mr P. It’s right. You got to see it’s right.’
    ‘She’s
not
our kin,’ objected Mr Puddleham. ‘We don’t know who she is, Mrs Puddleham, or where she’s come from. She may have family of her own.’
    ‘No, I haven’t —’ began Sam, but Mrs Puddleham interrupted. ‘She’s headin’ to the diggings to make her fortune, just like us. She ain’t dressed up like a floozy, neither, so we knows her morals is good. An’ it ain’t right for a girl her age to be alone on the diggings. You knows that, Mr P. Sometimes we all of us needs a little help from others if we’re to get by.’
    ‘But, Mrs Puddleham …’ the little man’s voice trailed off. Something was going on between them, Sam decided. Something that didn’t need words said out loud.
    ‘I ain’t asked nothing o’ you, ever, have I?’ added Mrs Puddleham softly. ‘Not a golden wedding band, nor ribbons for me hair. An’ she’ll be useful. That Professor is as much use minding the pots as one o’ Her Majesty’s lap dogs. You’ve said yourself I don’t know how many times we needs another pair o’ hands.’
    Mr Puddleham glanced