Page 173 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

the wind shifted to the north-west, which caused a heavy
swell on the bar, and prudent Mr. Bates, having consider-
ation for Mrs. Vickers and the child, ran back ten miles into
Wellington Bay, and anchored there again at seven o’clock
in the morning. The tide was running strongly, and the brig
rolled a good deal. Mrs. Vickers kept to her cabin, and sent
Sylvia to entertain Lieutenant Frere. Sylvia went, but was
not entertaining. She had conceived for Frere one of those
violent antipathies which children sometimes own without
reason, and since the memorable night of the apology had
been barely civil to him. In vain did he pet her and compli-
ment her, she was not to be flattered into liking him. ‘I do
not like you, sir,’ she said in her stilted fashion, ‘but that
need make no difference to you. You occupy yourself with
your prisoners; I can amuse myself without you, thank you.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Frere, ‘I don’t want to interfere”; but he
felt a little nettled nevertheless. On this particular evening
the young lady relaxed her severity of demeanour. Her fa-
ther away, and her mother sick, the little maiden felt lonely,
and as a last resource accepted her mother’s commands
and went to Frere. He was walking up and down the deck,
smoking.
‘Mr. Frere, I am sent to talk to you.’
‘Are you? All right—go on.’
‘Oh dear, no. It is the gentleman’s place to entertain. Be
amusing!’
‘Come and sit down then,’ said Frere, who was in good
humour at the success of his arrangements. ‘What shall we
talk about?’

1 For the Term of His Natural Life