for the term of his natural life-第42章

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ad　been　wrought　by　the　influence　of　little　Sylvia。　Recovered　from　the　weakness　consequent　upon　this　terrible　journey；　Rufus　Dawes　had　experienced　for　the　first　time　in　six　years　the　soothing　power　of　kindness。　　He　had　now　an　object　to　live　for　beyond　himself。　He　was　of　use　to　somebody；　and　had　he　died；　he　would　have　been　regretted。　To　us　this　means　little；　to　this　unhappy　man　it　meant　everything。　He　found；　to　his　astonishment；　that　he　was　not　despised；　and　that；　by　the　strange　concurrence　of　circumstances；　he　had　been　brought　into　a　position　in　which　his　convict　experiences　gave　him　authority。　He　was　skilled　in　all　the　mysteries　of　the　prison　sheds。　　He　knew　how　to　sustain　life　on　as　little　food　as　possible。　　He　could　fell　trees　without　an　axe；　bake　bread　without　an　oven；　build　a　weatherproof　hut　without　bricks　or　mortar。　　From　the　patient　he　became　the　adviser；　and　from　the　adviser；　the　commander。　　In　the　semi…savage　state　to　which　these　four　human　beings　had　been　brought；　he　found　that　savage　accomplishments　were　of　most　value。　　Might　was　Right；　and　Maurice　Frere's　authority　of　gentility　soon　succumbed　to　Rufus　Dawes's　authority　of　knowledge。

As　the　time　wore　on；　and　the　scanty　stock　of　provisions　decreased；　he　found　that　his　authority　grew　more　and　more　powerful。　　Did　a　question　arise　as　to　the　qualities　of　a　strange　plant；　it　was　Rufus　Dawes　who　could　pronounce　upon　it。　　Were　fish　to　be　caught；　it　was　Rufus　Dawes　who　caught　them。　Did　Mrs。　Vickers　complain　of　the　instability　of　her　brushwood　hut；　it　was　Rufus　Dawes　who　worked　a　wicker　shield；　and　plastering　it　with　clay；　produced　a　wall　that　defied　the　keenest　wind。　　He　made　cups　out　of　pine…knots；　and　plates　out　of　bark…strips。　　He　worked　harder　than　any　three　men。　Nothing　daunted　him；　nothing　discouraged　him。　　When　Mrs。　Vickers　fell　sick；　from　anxiety　and　insufficient　food；　it　was　Rufus　Dawes　who　gathered　fresh　leaves　for　her　couch；　who　cheered　her　by　hopeful　words；　who　voluntarily　gave　up　half　his　own　allowance　of　meat　that　she　might　grow　stronger　on　it。　　The　poor　woman　and　her　child　called　him　〃Mr。〃　Dawes。

Frere　watched　all　this　with　dissatisfaction　that　amounted　at　times　to　positive　hatred。　　Yet　he　could　say　nothing；　for　he　could　not　but　acknowledge　that；　beside　Dawes；　he　was　incapable。　　He　even　submitted　to　take　orders　from　this　escaped　convictit　was　so　evident　that　the　escaped　convict　knew　better　than　he。　　Sylvia　began　to　look　upon　Dawes　as　a　second　Bates。　He　was；　moreover；　all　her　own。　　She　had　an　interest　in　him；　for　she　had　nursed　and　protected　him。　　If　it　had　not　been　for　her；　this　prodigy　would　not　have　lived。　　He　felt　for　her　an　absorbing　affection　that　was　almost　a　passion。　　She　was　his　good　angel；　his　protectress；　his　glimpse　of　Heaven。　　She　had　given　him　food　when　he　was　starving；　and　had　believed　in　him　when　the　worldthe　world　of　four　had　looked　coldly　on　him。　　He　would　have　died　for　her；　and；　for　love　of　her；　hoped　for　the　vessel　which　should　take　her　back　to　freedom　and　give　him　again　into　bondage。

But　the　days　stole　on；　and　no　vessel　appeared。　　Each　day　they　eagerly　scanned　the　watery　horizon；　each　day　they　longed　to　behold　the　bowsprit　of　the　returning　Ladybird　glide　past　the　jutting　rock　that　shut　out　the　view　of　the　harbourbut　in　vain。　　Mrs。　Vickers's　illness　increased；　and　the　stock　of　provisions　began　to　run　short。　　Dawes　talked　of　putting　himself　and　Frere　on　half　allowance。　　It　was　evident　that；　unless　succour　came　in　a　few　days；　they　must　starve。

Frere　mooted　all　sorts　of　wild　plans　for　obtaining　food。　He　would　make　a　journey　to　the　settlement；　and；　swimming　the　estuary；　search　if　haply　any　casks　of　biscuit　had　been　left　behind　in　the　hurry　of　departure。　　He　would　set　springes　for　the　seagulls；　and　snare　the　pigeons　at　Liberty　Point。　　But　all　these　proved　impracticable；　and　with　blank　faces　they　watched　their　bag　of　flour　grow　smaller　and　smaller　daily。　Then　the　notion　of　escape　was　broached。　　Could　they　construct　a　raft？　Impossible　without　nails　or　ropes。　　Could　they　build　a　boat？　Equally　impossible　for　the　same　reason。　　Could　they　raise　a　fire　sufficient　to　signal　a　ship？　　Easily；　but　what　ship　would　come　within　reach　of　that　doubly…desolate　spot？　　Nothing　could　be　done　but　wait　for　a　vessel；　which　was　sure　to　come　for　them　sooner　or　later；　and；　growing　weaker　day　by　day；　they　waited。

One　morning　Sylvia　was　sitting　in　the　sun　reading　the　〃English　History〃；　which；　by　the　accident　of　fright；　she　had　brought　with　her　on　the　night　of　the　mutiny。　　〃Mr。　Frere；〃　said　she；　suddenly；　〃what　is　an　alchemist？〃

〃A　man　who　makes　gold；〃　was　Frere's　not　very　accurate　definition。

〃Do　you　know　one？〃

〃No。〃

〃Do　you；　Mr。　Dawes？〃

〃I　knew　a　man　once　who　thought　himself　one。〃

〃What！　　A　man　who　made　gold？〃

〃After　a　fashion。〃

〃But　did　he　make　gold？〃　persisted　Sylvia。

〃No；　not　absolutely　make　it。　　But　he　was；　in　his　worship　of　money；　an　alchemist　for　all　that。〃

〃What　became　of　him？〃

〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Dawes；　with　so　much　constraint　in　his　tone　that　the　child　instinctively　turned　the　subject。

〃Then；　alchemy　is　a　very　old　art？〃

〃Oh；　yes。〃

〃Did　the　Ancient　Britons　know　it？〃

〃No；　not　as　old　as　that！〃

Sylvia　suddenly　gave　a　little　scream。　　The　remembrance　of　the　evening　when　she　read　about　the　Ancient　Britons　to　poor　Bates　came　vividly　into　her　mind；　and　though　she　had　since　re…read　the　passage　that　had　then　attracted　her　attention　a　hundred　times；　it　had　never　before　presented　itself　to　her　in　its　full　significance。　　Hurriedly　turning　the　well…thumbed　leaves；　she　read　aloud　the　passage　which　had　provoked　remark：…

〃'The　Ancient　Britons　were　little　better　than　Barbarians。　They　painted　their　bodies　with　Woad；　and；　seated　in　their　light　coracles　of　skin　stretched　upon　slender　wooden　frames；　must　have　presented　a　wild　and　savage　appearance。'〃

〃A　coracle！　　That's　a　boat！　　Can't　we　make　a　coracle；　Mr。　Dawes？〃　




CHAPTER　XIII。

WHAT　THE　SEAWEED　SUGGESTED。



The　question　gave　the　marooned　party　new　hopes。　　Maurice　Frere；　with　his　usual　impetuosity；　declared　that　the　project　was　a　most　feasible　one；　and　wonderedas　such　men　will　wonderthat　it　had　never　occurred　to　him　before。　　〃It's　the　simplest　thing　in　the　world！〃　he　cried。　　〃Sylvia；　you　have　saved　us！〃　But　upon　taking　the　matter　into　more　earnest　consideration；　it　became　apparent　that　they　were　as　yet　a　long　way　from　the　realization　of　their　hopes。　　To　make　a　coracle　of　skins　seemed　sufficiently　easy；　but　how　to　obtain　the　skins！　　The　one　miserable　hide　of　the　unlucky　she…goat　was　utterly　inadequate　for　the　purpose。　　Sylviaher　face　beaming　with　the　hope　of　escape；　and　with　delight　at　having　been　the　means　of　suggesting　itwatched　narrowly　the　countenance　of　Rufus　Dawes；　but　she　marked　no　answering　gleam　of　joy　in　those　eyes。　　〃Can't　it　be　done；　Mr。　Dawes？〃　she　asked；　trembling　for　the　reply。

The　convict　knitted　his　brows　gloomily。

〃Come；　Dawes！〃　cried　Frere；　forgetting　his　enmity　for　an　instant　in　the　flash　of　new　hope；　〃can't　you　suggest　something？〃

Rufus　Dawes；　thus　appealed　to　as　the　acknowledged　Head　of　the　little　society；　felt　a　pleasant　thrill　of　self…satisfaction。　　〃I　don't　know；〃　he　said。　〃I　must　think　of　it。　　It　looks　easy；　and　yet〃　He　paused　as　something　in　the　water　caught　his　eye。　　It　was　a　mass　of　bladdery　seaweed　that　the　returning　tide　was　wafting　slowly　to　the　shore。　　This　object；　which　would　have　passed　unnoticed　at　any　other　time；　suggested　to　Rufus　Dawes　a　new　idea。　　〃Yes；〃　he　added　slowly；　with　a　change　of　tone；　〃it　may　be　done。　I　think　I　can　see　my　way。〃

The　others　preserved　a　respectful　silence　until　he　should　speak　again。　〃How　far　do　you　think　it　is　across　the　bay？〃　he　asked　of　Frere。

〃What；　to　Sarah　Island？〃

〃No；　to　the　Pilot　Station。〃

〃About　four　miles。〃

The　convict　sighed。　　〃Too　far　to　swim　now；　though　I　might　have　done　it　once。　But　this　sort　of　life　weakens　a　man。　　It　must　be　done　after　all。〃

〃What　are　you　going　to　do？〃　asked　Frere。

〃To　kill　the　goat。〃

Sylvia　uttered　a　little　cry；　she　had　become　fond　of　her　dumb　companion。　〃Kill　Nanny！　　Oh；　Mr。　Dawes！　　What　for？〃

〃I　am　going　to　make　a　boat　for　you；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　want　hides；　and　thread；　and　tallow。〃

A　few　weeks　back　Maurice　Frere　would　have