Whom could we possibly allude to but the celebrated, the illustrious, we grieve to be compelled to add, the notorious Starlight, the hero of a hundred legends, the Australian Claude Duval?
Yes, almost incredible as it may seem to our readers and persons at a distance imperfectly acquainted with exceptional phases of colonial life, the robber chief (and, for all we know, more than one of his aides-de-camp)was among us, foremost among the betting men, the observed of all observers in the grand stand, where, with those popular country gentlemen, the Messrs.Dawson, he cheered the winners in the two great races, both of which, with demoniac luck, he had backed heavily.
We narrate as a plain, unvarnished truth that this accomplished and semi-historical personage raced a horse of his own, which turns out now to have been the famous Rainbow, an animal of such marvellous speed, courage, and endurance that as many legends are current about him as of Dick Turpin's well-known steed.He attended the marriage, in St.Matthew's Church, of Miss Isabel Barnes, the daughter of our respected neighbour, Mr.Jonathan Barnes, when he presented the bride with a costly and beautiful diamond ring, completing the round of his vagaries by dining on invitation with the Commissioner at the camp mess, and, with that high official, honouring our race ball with his presence, and sunning himself in the smiles of our fairest maidens.
We are afraid that we shall have exhausted the fund of human credulity, and added a fresh and original chapter to those tales of mystery and imagination of which the late Edgar Allan Poe was so masterly a delineator.
More familiarly rendered, it seems that the fascinating Captain Starlight --"as mild a mannered man" (like Lambre) "as ever scuttled a ship or cut a throat," presented himself opportunely at one of the mountain hostelries, to the notice of our good-hearted squires of Wideview, Messrs.William and John Dawson.One of their wheelers lay at the point of death -- a horse of great value -- when the agreeable stranger suggested a remedy which effected a sudden cure.
With all their generous instincts stirred, the Messrs.Dawson invited the gentleman to take a seat in their well-appointed drag.
He introduced himself as Mr.Lascelles, holding a commission in an Indian regiment of Irregular Horse, and now on leave, travelling chiefly for health.
Just sufficiently sunburned, perfect in manner, full of information, humorous and original in conversation, and with all the "prestige"of the unknown, small wonder that "The Captain" was regarded as a prize, socially considered, and introduced right and left.Ha! ha!
What a most excellent jest, albeit rather keen, as far as Sir Ferdinand is concerned! We shall never, never cease to recall the humorous side of the whole affair.Why, we ourselves, our august editorial self, actually had a bet in the stand with the audacious pretender, and won it, too.Did he pay up? Of course he did.A "pony", to wit, and on the nail.He does nothing by halves, "notre capitaine".
We have been less promptly reimbursed, indeed, not paid at all, by gentlemen boasting a fairer record.How graciously he smiled and bowed as, with his primrose kid gloves, he disengaged the two tenners and a five-pound note from his well-filled receptacle.
The last time we had seen him was in the dock at Nomah, being tried in the great cattle case, that "cause celebre".
To do him justice, he was quite as cool and unconcerned there, and looked as if he was doing the amateur casual business without ulterior liabilities.
Adieu! fare thee well, Starlight, bold Rover of the Waste; we feel inclined to echo the lament of the ancient Lord Douglas --"'Tis pity of him, too," he cried;
"Bold can he speak, and fairly ride;
I warrant him a warrior tried."
It is in the interests of justice, doubtless, that thou be hunted down, and expiate by death-doom the crimes which thou and thy myrmidons have committed against society in the sight of God and man.
But we cannot, for the life of us, take a keen interest in thy capture.
We owe thee much, Starlight; many a slashing leader, many a spicy paragraph, many a stately reflection on contemporary morals hast thou furnished us with.
Shall we haste to the slaughter of the rarest bird -- golden ovaried?
We trow not.Get thee to the wilderness, and repent thee of thy sins.
Why should we judge thee? Thou hast, if such dubious donation may avail, an editor's blessing.Depart, and "stick up" no more.
Well done, the "Turon Star"!' says Starlight, after he read it all out.
`I call that very fair.There's a flavour of good feeling underneath much of that nonsense, as well as of porter and oysters.
It does a fellow a deal more good than slanging him to believe that he's human after all, and that men think so.'
`Do you reckon that chap was sober when he wrote that?' says father.
`Blest if I can make head or tail of it.Half what them fellows puts down is regular rot.Why couldn't he have cut it a bit shorter, too?'
