‘You had no business going to that meeting, Henry.’ Father scowled at him. ‘This is beyond anything. It’s bad enough that I can’t trust you to be here when I need you – but this!’

Henry stared over the creek to where Eliza was playing hopscotch with some of the other miners’ children. How was it that Eliza never got into trouble?

Father sat down heavily on the fallen log. ‘People like the Shanahans will drag you into trouble, and I won’t have it. The boy Frank is clearly a dangerous firebrand, and his mother is a petty criminal who runs a sly-grog tent. Not that you’d expect anything better of the Irish. Burning down a hotel, indeed! What gives them the right to destroy another man’s property? Rebels are the scum of the earth, and Irish rebels are worst of all.’

‘It wasn’t an Irishman who lit the fire. It was Jack, Happy Jack. I know him. He’s . . . he’s a good person.’

‘Who? That imbecile?’ Father frowned. ‘Surely you can see that he’s somebody you should stay well away from. He’s both mad and dangerous.’

‘He does have a pet snake, but he’s not mad,’ said Henry. How could he make Father understand? ‘Jack only wants things to be better for the miners, just like we do. He says he’s the voice of the people, and it’s true. Doesn’t that make it all right?’

‘A criminal act can never be right,’ Father said very firmly. He pulled out his clay pipe and lit it, blowing out a puff of smoke that made Henry cough. ‘Lord knows, we need some changes here on the goldfields, and like all right-minded people I believe that there should be one law for all. But that cannot be achieved by breaking the laws that exist. Mob violence achieves nothing.’ He pointed the stem of his pipe at Henry. ‘Every person who attended that disgraceful riot today is a criminal, pure and simple.’

‘I was there,’ said Henry. ‘And I’m not a criminal, am I?’ He knew he was taking a risk to speak to Father like that, but what did he have to lose?

Father held up a hand to silence him. ‘I’m telling you, boy, that you join the rebels at your peril. I expect they made you go with them, didn’t they? They tried to make you believe in their cause?’

‘Not exactly.’ Henry didn’t dare say he’d wanted to go to the meeting, or how exciting it had been. ‘I went because . . . because Jack and Frank are my friends.’

‘Friends?’ Father’s face was starting to go red now. Henry knew that was a danger sign. ‘These so-called friends, the Shanahan boy and Crazy Jack or whatever his name is, are a bad influence on you. I absolutely forbid you to see these people again. Ever. And if you disobey me in this, you can expect a very stern punishment. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, but –’

‘That’s an order, Henry.’

Henry opened his mouth, and closed it again. How could he give up being friends with Frank and Jack? Just thinking about it made him realise how lonely he’d been before he met them, and how dull his life had become. But he knew that if he said anything more Father would fly into a rage.

‘Well?’ said Father.

‘Yes, Father,’ Henry said. It hurt, but what else could he do? ‘I promise.’

‘Good.’ Father stood up. ‘A pet snake?’ he said. ‘Now I’ve heard everything.’

‘My father says I can’t see you any more,’ Henry told Frank. All the way to the pharmacy he’d been trying to work out what to say. Now he was there, face to face with Frank, he forgot all that. He just blurted it out.

Frank looked at him in disbelief. ‘Begorrah, why not?’

‘He thinks you’re dangerous.’ Even as he said it, Henry thought how silly that sounded. He almost smiled, but Frank’s face was angry now.

‘And you agree with him?’

‘What do you think? Of course I don’t. It’s just Father –’

‘I see. Well, that’s a sad thing, Henry. It’s not as if he even knows me. Maybe he’ll change his mind?’

‘Father never changes his mind. But I’m still your friend, Frank. You and me and Jack, we’ll always be friends. It’s just that –’

‘What?’

Henry hesitated. ‘He was angry that I went to the meeting. He thinks I’ve joined the rebels.’

‘And so you have. You’re on our side, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure it was right to burn down the hotel. Father says it was a criminal act.’

‘So he thinks people like the Bentleys should get away with murder? He thinks it’s all right to have one rule for rich people and another for poor people?’

‘Not exactly.’ Henry rubbed his head, trying to clear it. ‘I’m not sure what he thinks. I know he’s on the side of the miners, because he’s a miner, too. But he says mob rule is bad, and rebels should be punished.’

‘And what’s that got to do with me, so?’

‘Father thinks I only went to the meeting because you, um, made me.’

Frank laughed. ‘Is that right? I don’t remember any of that. I hope you told your father he was wrong.’

‘I tried to, honest. But, Frank, he’s my father. I have to do what he says. I don’t want to, but I have to. You understand, don’t you?’

‘No, I don’t. We’re covies. And this is war, Henry. You have to take sides in a war. I’ll take the side of the rebels. Which side will you take? The side of the traps?’

Henry was silent. He felt like the worst sort of traitor.

‘So did you stick up for the rebels?’ Frank asked. ‘Did you tell him that me and my ma and Jack, we’re all trying to make the miners’ lives better?’

‘It wouldn’t have made any difference.’

‘It might have.’

‘It wouldn’t. Look, I know it’s not right, but . . . well . . . the truth is you’re Irish, and . . .’ Henry’s voice trailed off.

Frank’s expression changed. ‘Oh, that’s how it is, is it? You and your father, you hate us Irish. Right, so. That explains everything.’

He started to walk off, and then he turned quickly and shoved Henry in the chest. Henry stumbled and almost fell. He hadn’t the heart to shove Frank back, though. Frank wasn’t his enemy.

‘Coward,’ Frank said. He said it under his breath, but Henry heard.

Henry went back to the claim, feeling as miserable as he’d ever felt in his whole life.