Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1906-06-23
for The Term of Ills Natural Life
By MARCUS CLARKE
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| Il cannot give you up. There Is nc
one but myself and woman and child
on the settlement" Rufus Dawes, paus-
ing In his eating, stared at him in amaze
ment. THE prisoners have gone away
in the schooner. If you choose to re-
main free, you can do so as far rs
am concerned. l am as helpless as you
are"
but how do you come here7"
Frere laughed bitterly. To give ex-
| plantations to convicts was foreign to his
experience, and he did not relish the
task. In this case, however, there was
no help for it. ''The prisoners mu-
tinted and seized the brig"
A terrible light broke upon Rufus
Dawes, and he began to understand how
he had again missed his chance. who
took herr"
THAT double-dyed villain, John Rex"
says Frere, giving vent to his passion
Rufus Dawes burst into laugh so
discordant that 1t made the other shud-
| der. We'll starve together, Maurice
Frere," said he; "for while you've a
| crust, I'll share it. If | don't get lib
erty, at least I'll have revenge"
The sinister aspect of this famished
savage sitting with his chin on his rag
ged knees, rocking himself to and fro
In the light of the fire, gave Mr. Mau
rice Frere a new sensation. He felt
as might have felt that African hunter
who, returning to his campfire, found
lion there. Wretch" said he, shrink
Ing from him, why should you wish to
be revenged on me?'
The convict turned upon him with
snarl. Take care what you say! I'll
have no hard words. Wretch! If | am
a wretch who made me one? If | hate
you and myself and the world, who made
me hate it2 l was born free-as free as
you are. Why should | be sent to herd
with beasts, and condemned to this slav-
cry, worse than death? Tell me that.
Maurice Frere-tell me thatw
L didn't make the laws" says Frere.
why do you attack me?
Because you are what l was. You
are free. You can do as you please
You can love, you can work, you can
think. | can only hatew He paused as
If astonished at himself, and then con-
tinued, with a low laugh: "Fine words
for a convict, eh! But never mind, it's
all right Mr.. Frere; we're equal now,
you, though you are a free man."
Frere began to think that he was deal
ing with another mailman. die! There's
no need to talk of dying" he said, as
soothingly as it was possible for him to
say it. Thine enough for that by and
by"
There spoke the free man. We con
Victs have an advantage over you gentle
men. You are afraid of death; we pray
for 1t. 1t Is the best thing that can
happen to us Die. They were GO
ing to hang me once. l wish they had"
There was such q depth of agony in
this terrible utterance that Maurice
Frere was appalled, at 1t. There, go
and sleep, my man." he said. "You are
knocked up. Wen talk in the morning"
Hold on a bt!" cries Rufus Dawes,
with a coarseness of manner altogether
foreign to that he had just assumed.
who's with yep
"The wife and daughter of the com
fandant," replied Frere, half afraid to
refuse an answer to a question so fierce
ly put.
Poor souls" said the convict, 81 pity
them" And then he stretched himself.
like a dog, before the blaze and went to
sleep instantly. When morning dawned
Frere awoke him.
Rufus Dawes glanced around him stu
pidly, and then remembering what had
happened, with great effort he stag
gered to his feet 81 thought they'd got
me- he said; but it's the other way.
| see. Come, let's have breakfast, Mr.
Frere. I'm hungry"
You must wait" said Frere. 'Do
you think there is no one here but your.
| self?'
The convict, stretching out his vast
ed arms looked down upon them with
the uncertain gaze of drunken man. ~
am weak now" he said. you have the
best of me- and then he sunk suddenly
down upon the ground, exhausted. Give
me drink! he moaned. feebly motionng
| with his hand.
Frere got him water in the pannikin.
and having drunk it, he smiled, and Law
down to sleep again. Mrs. Vickers and
Sylvia coming out while he still slept
recognized him as the desperate of the
settlement.
He was the most desperate man we
had said Mrs. Vickers, identifying
herself with her husband. ooh, what
shall we doY'
He won't do much HARM" returned
Frere, looking down at the notorious
rufian with curiosity. Hes as neal
dead as can be-"
Sylvia looked up at him with her clear
child's glance. I'VE mustn't let hin
die" said she. THAT would be muir
der"
No, no." returned Frere, hastily; IN,
one wants him to die. But what cal
we do?"
I'm nurse him" cried Sylvia.
Frere broke into one of his coars
laughs, the first one that he had indulg
e1 in since the mutiny. "You nurs,
him! That's a good one" The poo
little child, weak and excitable, felt tn
contempt in the tone. and burst into
passion of sobs. "Why do you insul
me, you wicked man? The poor fellow
, Ill, and hell-he'll die, like Mr.. Bates
On mamma, mamma, let's go away b.