The herald., 1896-06-14

Settlement at Sydney. and that John Locke,
her master, had connived at their escape.
This much is told by the official records OF
the Settlement. What remains of this
story Is pieced together from information
not officially available.
The Resolution Is standing to the N.N.E.,
with fresh breeze abeam and every stitch
Of sail set. Mr.. John Locke, who oils
his hair and curls his whiskers," is walking
the poop of his cumbersome old ship. and
the crew. under the orders Of the mates,
are lashing the movable objects on deck
and generally getting things ready for sea
before the land is lost sight Of. The
surgeon, Blackburn, as Sergeant Day calls
him in his affidavit, is seated in the cabin
and whistling softly to himself, every now
and then glancing through the cabin doors,
which open on to the main deck, as II he
expected to see some one come in.
Captain Locke is a fine figure of man,
trifle over six feet In height, not more
than six-and-thirty years OF age, showily
dressed, shining and perfumed, and alto
gether justifying. by greasiness of face
and head and general fashion of grooming
himself that serious allegation of the mas
ter Of the Salamander in the matter of hair
and whiskers.
Presently the land being pretty we'll out
Of sight and the night having fallen enough
for the man at the wheel to have asked
for light for the pinnacle. Mr.. Locke
went up to the cabin skylight and called
down
"Step up on deck a moment, Blackburn,
want you.'
Mr.. Blackburn rose in a leisurely manner,
and made his way to the poop.
Here l am. What do you want?"
The surgeon Of the Resolution is very
different looking person to her dashing
ter, being little man Of very uncertain age
and OF an exceedingly dry and parched as
pect, save for his nose, which resembled that
of one of the shocking examples" that tenn
perance lecturers occasionally bring upon
the platform with them to illustrate the
curse of drink Certainly no one could ac-
acuse Mr.. Blackburn Of greasing his hair or
whiskers, though his voice would have been
all the better for oiling-5udging from its
tones, which were not unlike the hoarse
note of a molly-hawk or BOBBY.
Captain Locke walked to the beak of the
poop, followed by the surgeon.
"Well, we are in for 1t now, Blackburn.
didn't bargain to bring away half the in"
fernal Colony for the sake of this woman.
What the devil shall we do with them?''
my dear sir l have thought of that. Oh
course 1t is inconvenient; but I assure you
that It was unavoidable, and we can remedy
the matter later on
That's all very we'll; but the whole thign
is out. That Jack-in-ofiics chief gaoler,
governor. or whatever he calls himself will
report the matter at home, and we shall
be tried for it,
Pooh, pooh my dear sir. In the first
place. the whole matter will be forgotten
by tho time we get back; and, by your plan,
supposing it is not forgotten, there will be
no evidence against you, while you will
have my evidence in your favor"
81 think you might have told me, Jack,
that we were clear of the Heads, and have
let me out of that stuffy cabin of yours be-
fore this"
This from a woman who had suddenly
come upon the poop from the cabin by way
Of the ladder on the laboard side. She was
coursely dressed in the plain shawl and
stuff grey gown of a convict. Her un-
graceful attire did not however, disguise
her great personal beauty. She was about
six CIR eight -and twenty, tall. dark, and
perhaps just a trife too stout. Her black
eyes and dark flush und' the pale olive skin
of her face. suggested the gypsy blood in
her veins, her speech, in her every move
ment
Send that miserable little rat below. -
she said, in quick. imperious
tones quite audible to the surgeon,
and indicating him with nod Of her dark
head.
Mr.. Blackburn was thereupon requested
by his captain to go below. and with a de-
prccatng but unpleasant smile at the wo-
man. did so.
"Well, Miriam, my beauty, said Cap
tain Locke. "the jobs done SO far. though
don't think the worst of 1t Is over. What
the devil are we to do with all these gov
ernnment chickens?"
"Jack," said the woman, playfully pull!
ing his long auburn whiskers, the mice
enmast conveniently hiding the caress from
the view of the man at the wheel, you
think yourself clever man. but, upon my
word, Jacky boy, you're fool"
ooh! come now, my beauty. I am sure
I've brought the affair off very well,
and
''Listen to the man. and the woman
shook her shapely forefnger mockingly in
his face. "He enters the port not two
months ago. highly respectable and vir-
tuous-no. III allow, Jack you were always
black sheep from the first. Well, to put
it fairly, when you came to the Cove cou-