按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃I'll nurse him！〃 cried Sylvia。
Frere broke into one of his coarse laughs； the first one that he had indulged in since the mutiny。 〃You nurse him！ By George； that's a good one！〃 The poor little child； weak and excitable； felt the contempt in the tone； and burst into a passion of sobs。 〃Why do you insult me； you wicked man？ The poor fellow's ill； and he'llhe'll die； like Mr。 Bates。 Oh； mamma； mamma； Let's go away by ourselves。〃
Frere swore a great oath； and walked away。 He went into the little wood under the cliff； and sat down。 He was full of strange thoughts； which he could not express； and which he had never owned before。 The dislike the child bore to him made him miserable； and yet he took delight in tormenting her。 He was conscious that he had acted the part of a coward the night before in endeavouring to frighten her； and that the detestation she bore him was well earned； but he had fully determined to stake his life in her defence； should the savage who had thus come upon them out of the desert attempt violence； and he was unreasonably angry at the pity she had shown。 It was not fair to be thus misinterpreted。 But he had done wrong to swear； and more so in quitting them so abruptly。 The consciousness of his wrong…doing； however； only made him more confirmed in it。 His native obstinacy would not allow him to retract what he had said even to himself。 Walking along； he came to Bates's grave； and the cross upon it。 Here was another evidence of ill…treatment。 She had always preferred Bates。 Now that Bates was gone； she must needs transfer her childish affections to a convict。 〃Oh；〃 said Frere to himself； with pleasant recollections of many coarse triumphs in love…making； 〃if you were a woman； you little vixen； I'd make you love me！〃 When he had said this； he laughed at himself for his follyhe was turning romantic！ When he got back； he found Dawes stretched upon the brushwood； with Sylvia sitting near him。
〃He is better；〃 said Mrs。 Vickers； disdaining to refer to the scene of the morning。 〃Sit down and have something to eat； Mr。 Frere。〃
〃Are you better？〃 asked Frere； abruptly。
To his surprise； the convict answered quite civilly； 〃I shall be strong again in a day or two； and then I can help you； sir。〃
〃Help me？ How？〃 〃To build a hut here for the ladies。 And we'll live here all our lives； and never go back to the sheds any more。〃
〃He has been wandering a little；〃 said Mrs。 Vickers。 〃Poor fellow； he seems quite well behaved。〃
The convict began to sing a little German song； and to beat the refrain with his hand。 Frere looked at him with curiosity。 〃I wonder what the story of that man's life has been；〃 he said。 〃A queer one； I'll be bound。〃
Sylvia looked up at him with a forgiving smile。 〃I'll ask him when he gets well；〃 she said； 〃and if you are good； I'll tell you； Mr。 Frere。〃
Frere accepted the proffered friendship。 〃I am a great brute； Sylvia； sometimes； ain't I？〃 he said； 〃but I don't mean it。〃
〃You are；〃 returned Sylvia； frankly； 〃but let's shake hands； and be friends。 It's no use quarrelling when there are only four of us； is it？〃 And in this way was Rufus Dawes admitted a member of the family circle。
Within a week from the night on which he had seen the smoke of Frere's fire； the convict had recovered his strength； and had become an important personage。 The distrust with which he had been at first viewed had worn off； and he was no longer an outcast； to be shunned and pointed at； or to be referred to in whispers。 He had abandoned his rough manner； and no longer threatened or complained； and though at times a profound melancholy would oppress him； his spirits were more even than those of Frere； who was often moody； sullen； and overbearing。 Rufus Dawes was no longer the brutalized wretch who had plunged into the dark waters of the bay to escape a life he loathed； and had alternately cursed and wept in the solitudes of the forests。 He was an active member of society a society of fourand he began to regain an air of independence and authority。 This change had 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