But what else were they to do? As Mrs Puddleham said, the food was there, waiting to be ate, and customers were back again, waiting to eat. Tonight though, most had muskets by their sides, and horns of powder at their belts. Scattered cheers rose across the diggings as men related to their comrades the brief triumph on the road. ‘No puddings tonight,’ said Mrs Puddleham wearily. ‘Didn’t have time to make none.’ Her voice came in a curious pant, as though she found it hard to breathe. Her face was pale. ‘You had better things to do, eh, missus?’ said one of the men. ‘Come on,’ he added to Sam. ‘Serve it up fast, lad. Them redcoats will be back soon enough.’ Sam filled his plate. ‘Are you all right, Ma?’ she whispered to Mrs Puddleham. Mrs Puddleham nodded. ‘Just a bit breathless like. I’d say me corsets were too tight if I ever wore any.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t like it. I don’t say the cause is wrong. But that poor boy lyin’ there —’ ‘An’ how many boys has this government killed, eh?’ muttered one of the diggers around his spoonful of stew.
What do You think about The Night They Stormed Eureka?
