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THREE
"He's put the rents up again. That's the second time in a year. If the price of wool drops any further, we'll have to sell the sheep just to pay rent, and it's only a matter of time before we run out of sheep," Harlow said.
Wystan just hung his head. He'd said little in the months since his wife and daughter had died, even after Stan, Harlow and Grant had moved into his cottage to help him out. All right, they'd moved in as much to save on rent, as one cottage cost less than two, but Wystan hadn't really cared.
Stan shook his head. As always, it would be up to him and Harlow to come up with a solution to their problems. Wystan was no help and heaven only knew where Grant had gone.
There were jobs in the factories, he'd heard. A man could earn an honest living if he was willing to leave the farmland where he'd grown up and move to the city. Or closer to home, maybe he and Grant could take up coal mining, leaving Wystan and Harlow to run the farm. Between them, they might be able to stave off eviction for a while.
But if the rents rose again, as Stan didn't doubt they would, for there were whispers about William Steel and the mighty mortgage he'd taken out on the land he'd inherited from his father...
Grant burst into the cottage, slamming the door open so hard it bounced off the wall and nearly knocked him over. He didn't seem to care, though, for he only rubbed idly at his shoulder as his grin widened.
"You should all get down on your knees and thank me, for I have found the solution to all our problems. A solution so brilliant it will make all our fortunes, and we'll never have to pay rent again, for we'll all be rich landowners in our own right!" Grant threw a slim black book on the table. "We shall all emigrate to America!"
Harlow burst out laughing. "That's a good joke, brother. The only men making money in America now are those who own or sell slaves. Seeing as that's illegal here and even if it wasn't, we have no money to buy anyone, so you surely mean we will have to sell ourselves into slavery to some shady illegal slave dealer you met down the pub!"
Even Stan had to laugh at that.
Grant only pouted. "That is not true! I did not hear it from some stranger at the pub, but from one of the grooms up at the big house. He found this book in William Steel's own carriage, and there is talk of him letting all the servants go so as he can sell the big house before it drives him bankrupt. What money he has, he plans to buy trade goods to take with him to the colonies. And if the Steels in the big house are doing it, then you can be sure there is money to be made."
"If William Steel is going to America, then I want to be on the other side of the world from wherever he is," Stan declared, flipping the book open. "Either here or New South Wales or..." He squinted at the first page. "Where on God's green earth is the Swan River Colony?"
Grant's grin returned. He took the book from Stan and leafed to the pages at the back. "It's in Australia, on the other side of the island from Sydney. No convicts at all, and they say that every man who arrives there before the end of 1830 gets forty acres of land, with no rent to pay, ever."
Stan's mind spun. Forty acres? That was larger than William Steel's estate here. He seized the book. There must be some catch. No one would give such largesse for nothing. "Ah, but here's the rub! We must invest three pounds for those forty acres. I don't know about you, but we'd be lucky to rustle up one pound between us, if we sold everything we own, and that would barely pay for our passage to this colony."
"You need to keep reading, coz. There's more. Any man who pays for the passage of a labourer will get two hundred acres per man. A certain Sir Thomas Peel has hired two ships to carry men and all that is needed to tame this colony, and he promises to give a portion of his land to every man who signs on to sail with him! Forty acres per single man, after five years of indentured labour."
Indentured servitude. Stan had heard of such things in the Americas, where it was little better than slavery, but with the promise of so much land for only working five years...
In five years, he'd be able to prove himself worthy of Carline. He'd own more land than her brother, free and clear, with no mortgage. That'd show William Steel who was worthy.
"Sign us all up. You, me, Harlow and Wystan," Stan instructed. "Five years of labour for forty acres is a bargain by any man's reckoning. If this Swan River Colony is half as fertile as this book says, we'll be rich men, well able to afford to pay for passage for the rest of our family to come and join us. Or to come back here and buy the big house for ourselves."
Grant clapped his hands. "It sounds like a wonderful adventure!"
Harlow regarded Stan with hard eyes. "It sounds like madness, or a mad gamble, at least. Why should I let such lunacy infect me?"
"Because it's lunacy to stay, or to go. Life is a gamble, and right now, the only choice we have is in the manner of our madness. We may take a gamble on this Swan River Colony, and work five years of our lives for our own land. The work will be hard, to be sure, but to own land is worth it. Or we can stay here, and work our collective arses off, selling sheep and the sweat of our brows until there is none left, and we are evicted. There is no future here. If we stay, we may only delay fate for a little while, but ultimately, we will lose. If we emigrate...one way or the other, we will surely win."
A faint smile touched Harlow's lips. "Ah, a man after my own heart, coz, you know how to win me over. I never gamble unless I know I will win, for I hate to lose. Besides, there's Wystan to think of. The man needs a change of scenery to cure him of his melancholy. A little hard work in this Swan River wilderness might do him good."
Stan drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It was settled, then. To the Swan River Colony they would go, and the devil take the hindmost.
