Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-07-20

had been seriously Ill, had tainted just
now In the court. Her only memories
Of the convict who had been with her in
the boat were those Of terror. The sight
of him Just now had most seriously af'
fected her. The convict himself was an
inveterate liar and schemer, and his
story had been already disproved BY
Captain Frere. Rufus Dawes, still en-
deavoring to speak, was clanked away
with amidst a buzz Of remark and sur
mise.
The trial progressed without further
incident. The defense set up by Rex
was most ingenious. He was guilty of
absconding, but his moderation might
plead an excuse for that. His only OBJ
ject was his freedom, and, having gain
ed 1t. he had lived honestly for nearly
three years, as he could prove. He was
charged with practically Selling the Os-
prey, and he urged that the brig Osprey,
having been built by convicts at Mac
| quarie Harbor, and never entered in
any shipping list, could not be said to
| be "piratically seized" in the strict
meaning of the term. The court admit
ted the force of this objection, and, in
| fluenced doubtless by Captain Frere's
evidence, the fact that FIVE years had
| passed since the mutiny, and that the
two men most guilty had been executed
in England, sentenced Rex and his three
companions to transportation for life to
the penal settlements of the colony.
At this happy conclusion of his la
bors, Frere went down to comfort the
| girl for whose sake he had suffered Rex
toAescape the gallows. He found Wick
ers in the garden, and at once begged
him not to talk about the business" to
his daughter.
''You saw how bad she was to-day,
Vickers. For goodness sake, don't make
her i'll againv'
my dear SIR" says poor Vickers, II
won't refer to the subject. She's been
very unwell ever since. Nervous and
unstrung. Go in and see her"
So Frere went In, and soothed the
excited girl, with real sorrow at her
suffering. cts all right now, POppet,"
he said to her. Don't think of it any
more. Put it out of your mind, dear"
"It was foolish of me, Maurice, l
know, but I could not help it. The
sound of-of-that mans voice seemed
to bring back to me some great pity for
something or some one. / don't explain
what mean, l know; but felt that
was Just on the verge of remembering
/ a story Of some -grest wrong, just about
to hear some dreadful revelation that
should make me turn from all the people
whom ought most to love. Do you I'M
derstandT
"T think know what you mean" says
Frere. with averted face. "But that's
all nonsense, you know"
| hn uvit
touch of her old childish manner OF
disposing Of questions out of hand.
Everybody knows it's all nonsense.
But then we do think such things. 1t
seems to me that l am double, that 1
have lived somewhere before, and have
had another life-a dream-life."
what romantic girl you are" said
the other, dimly comprehending her
meaning. How could you have a
| dream-lfeY'
"Of course, not really. But in thought,
you know. 1 dream such strange things
now and then. am always falling
down precipices and into cataracts, and
being pushed into great caverns in
enormous rocks. Horrible dreams! And
in these Dreams" continued Sylvia,
there is one strange thing. You are
always there, Maurice"
Come, that's all right" says Maui
rice.
"Ah, but not kind and good as you
are, Captain Bruin, but scOwling, and
threatening. and angry, so that l am
afraid of you"
"But that is only in dream, darling"
"But you looked just so to-day in the
court, Maurice and I think that's what
made me so silly"
"My darling! THERE Hush-don't
cry!"
But she had burst into a passion of
sobs and tears that shook her slight fig
ure in his arms.
"Oh, Maurice. I am wicked girl! I
don't know my own mind. think some
times don't love you as l ought-you
who have saved me and nursed me-"
"There, never mind. about that" NUT
tered Maurice Frere, with sort Of
choking in his throat.
She grew more composed presently,
and said, after a while. lifting her face:
''Tell me, Maurice. did you ever, in
those days of which you have spoken to
me-when you nursed me as a little
child in your arms, and, fed me, and
starved for me-did you ever think we
should be maPriedW
''I don't know" says Maurice. 'Why?"
81 think you must have thought so,
because-it's not vanity, dear-you
would not else have been so kind and
gentle and devoted"
Nonsense, Poppet!' he said, with his
eyes resolutely averted.
mo, but you have been; and am
very pettish, sometimes. Papa has
spoiled me- You are always affec-
tionate, and those worrying ways of
yours, which l get angry at, all come
from love for me, don't they|