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of bondage. The discipline at the place was so severe, and
the life so terrible, that prisoners would risk all to escape
from it. In one year, of eighty-five deaths there, only thirty
were from natural causes; of the remaining dead, twenty-
seven were drowned, eight killed accidentally, three shot
by the soldiers, and twelve murdered by their comrades. In
1822, one hundred and sixty-nine men out of one hundred
and eighty-two were punished to the extent of two thousand
lashes. During the ten years of its existence, one hundred
and twelve men escaped, out of whom sixty-two only were
found-dead. The prisoners killed themselves to avoid living
any longer, and if so fortunate as to penetrate the desert of
scrub, heath, and swamp, which lay between their prison
and the settled districts, preferred death to recapture. Suc-
cessfully to transport the remnant of this desperate band
of doubly-convicted felons to Arthur’s new prison, was the
mission of Maurice Frere.
He was sitting by the empty fire-place, with one leg care-
lessly thrown over the other, entertaining the company with
his usual indifferent air. The six years that had passed since
his departure from England had given him a sturdier frame
and a fuller face. His hair was coarser, his face redder, and
his eye more hard, but in demeanour he was little changed.
Sobered he might be, and his voice had acquired that deci-
sive, insured tone which a voice exercised only in accents of
command invariably acquires, but his bad qualities were as
prominent as ever. His five years’ residence at Maria Island
had increased that brutality of thought, and overbearing
confidence in his own importance, for which he had been
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