The Kennewick courier. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1905-1914, 1906-09-28
for The Term of His Natural Life
By MARCUS CLARKE
CHAPTER XXX.-(Continued.)

O11AA LIN
Rufus Dawes, Overpowered by the rev.
elation so suddenly made to him, had
| remained for a few moments motionless
| in his cell, expecting to hear the heavy
clang of the outer door, which should
| announce to him the departure of the
chaplain. But he did not hear it, and
it seemed to him that the air in the
cell had grown suddenly cooler. He
went to the door and looked into the
| narrow corridor, expecting to see the
scowling countenance of Gimblett. To
his establishment the door of the prison
| was wide open, and not a soul in sight.
He looked around. The night was fall
| Ing sullenly; the wind was mounting;
| from beyond the bar came the hoarse
| murmur of an angry sea. If the schOOn-
er was to sail that night, she had best
get out into deep waters. Where was
the chaplain? Pray heaven the delay
| had been sufficient and they had sailed
without him. Yet they would be sure
to meet. He advanced a few steps
nearer, and looked about him. Was it
possible that, in his madness, the chap
lain had been about to commit some
violence which had drawn the trusty
Gimblett from his post? The trusty
Gimblett was lying at his feet-dead
drunk!
Hi! Hobo! Hillo, there" roared
somebody from the jetty below. "Be
that you, Muster Noarth? We amt
too much tam, sur!''
From the uncurtained windows of the
chaplain's house on the hill beamed the
newly lighted candle. They in the boat
did not see it, but it brought to the
prisoner a wild hope that made his heart
bound. He ran back to his cell, clapped
on North's wide-awake, and, finging the
cloak hastily about him, came quickly
down the steps. If the moon should
shinet out now!
Jump in, Sir" said unsuspecting
Mannix thinking only of the fogging
he had been threatened with. It'll be
a dirty night, this night! Put this over
your knees, sir. Shove her off! Give
way! And they were af1oat. But one
glimpse of moonlight fell upon the
slouched hat and cloaked figure, and the
boats crew, engaged in the dangerous
| task of navigating the reef in the teeth
of the rising gale, paid no attention to
the chaplain.
Lads, we're but just in time" cried
Mannix; and they laid alongside the
schooner, black in blackness. up ye
60, yer honor, quick" And the anchor
was a-trip as Rufus Dawes ran up the
side.
The commandant, already pulling off
in his own boat, roared farewell.
"Good-by, North. 1t was touch and go
with ye," adding, Course the fellow; he's
too proud to answer
The chaplain, indeed, spoke to no
one, and, plunging down the hatchway,
made for the stern cabins. "Close shave,
your reverence!" said a respectful some
body, opening a door. 1t was, but the
clergyman did not say SO. He double
locked the door, and, hardly realizing
the danger he had escaped, flung himself
on the bunk, painting. Over his head he
heard the rapid tramp of feet. He could
smell the sea, and through the open
window of the cabin could distinguish
the light in the chaplain's house on the
hill. The trampling ceased, the vessel
began to move swiftly, the command
ants boat appeared below him for an
instant, making her way back; the Lady
Franklin had - sail.
"That's - from the shore" said
Partridge, tHg tie, land they're burn
ing red li:'~-T There's a prisoner es-
capped. Shaf lie tor
| Lie to-" NV old Blunt. well have
suthin else Look therer'
The sky to ~ northward was streak
ed with belt of livid green color, above
which rose a mighty black cloud, whose
shape was ever changing.