Part 48 (1/2)
And then the pair began to make love, or, rather, Maurice ht soround by the fountain?” They were near the spot where Dawes had been seized the night before A little streaarden, and a Triton--of convict manufacture--blew his horn in the middle of a--convict built--rockery Under the lip of the fountain lay a small packet Frere picked it up It was made of soiled yellow cloth, and stitched evidently by a ers ”It looks like a needle-case,” said he
”Let ! Yellow cloth, too Why, itto a prisoner Oh, Maurice, the ht!”
”Ay,” says Maurice, turning over the packet, ”itsoht Perhaps this is it!” said she, peering over his ar of a scowl on his brow, tore off the outer covering of the rey cloth--the ”good-conduct” uniform Beneath this was a piece, some three inches square, of stained and discoloured merino, that had once been blue
”Hullo!” says Frere ”Why, what's this?”
”It is a piece of a dress,” says Sylvia
It was Rufus Dawes's talisman--a portion of the frock she had worn at Macquarie Harbour, and which the unhappy convict had cherished as a sacred relic for five weary years
Frere flung it into the water The running streairl, with a sudden pang of remorse for which she could not account The shred of cloth, caught by a weed, lingered for an instant on the surface of the water Al their eyes, saw the schooner which bore Rufus Dawes back to bondage glide past the opening of the trees and disappear
When they looked again for the strange relic of the desperado of Port Arthur, it also had vanished
CHAPTER XII AT PORT ARTHUR
The usual clanking and ha was prevalent upon the stone jetty of Port Arthur when the schooner bearing the returned convict, Rufus Dawes, ran alongside On the heights above the esplanade rose the grim front of the soldiers' barracks; beneath the soldiers' barracks was the long range of prison buildings with their workshops and tan-pits; to the left lay the Commandant's house, authoritative by reason of its euardian sentry; while the jetty, that faced the purple length of the ”Island of the Dead,” swar about their enforced business, under the aolers
Rufus Dawes had seen this prospect before, had learnt by heart each beauty of rising sun, sparkling water, and wooded hill Fronal station, that, embowered in bloom, reared its slender arms upwards into the cloudless sky, he knew it all There was no charm for him in the exquisite blue of the sea, the soft shadows of the hills, or the soothing ripple of the waves that crept voluptuously to the white breast of the shi+ning shore
He sat with his head bowed down, and his hands clasped about his knees, disdaining to look until they roused hi his train of ironed yellow-jackets ”So you've coe since we had the pleasure of your cohed, so that their irons clanked h at Mr Troke's humour ”Step down here, Dawes, and let lad to see yer, won't yer, boys? Why, bless iven us the slip altogether, Dawes They didn't take care of yer in Hobart Town, I expect, eh, boys? We'll look after yer here, Dawes, though You won't bolt anyvoice, ”you're at it again! Let the man alone!”
By virtue of an order transerous prisoner to the last -irons of the pair by means of an extra link, which could be ren of consciousness At the sound of the friendly tones, however, he looked up, and saw a tall, gaunta black handkerchief knotted round his throat He was a stranger to hi at once the bully in the sneak ”I didn't see yer reverence”
”A parson!” thought Daith disappointment, and dropped his eyes
”I know that,” returned Mr North, coolly ”If you had, you would have been all butter and honey Don't trouble yourself to tell a lie; it's quite unnecessary”
Dawes looked up again This was a strange parson
”What's your na his eye
Rufus Dawes had intended to scowl, but the tone, sharply authoritative, roused his automatic convict second nature, and he answered, almost despite hi hi in it ”This is the o to the Coal Mines”
”So he is,” said Troke, ”but we hain't a goin' to send there for a fortnit, and in the meantime I'ain ”Lend me your knife, Troke”