Page 246 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

out-going tide swept him down towards the mouth of the
harbour.
Frere, sulkily admiring, went back to prepare the
breakfast— they were on half rations now, Dawes having
forbidden the slaughtered goat to be eaten, lest his expedi-
tion should prove unsuccessful—wondering at the chance
which had thrown this convict in his way. ‘Parsons would
call it ‘a special providence,’’ he said to himself. ‘For if it
hadn’t been for him, we should never have got thus far. If
his ‘boat’ succeeds, we’re all right, I suppose. He’s a clever
dog. I wonder who he is.’ His training as a master of con-
victs made him think how dangerous such a man would be
on a convict station. It would be difficult to keep a fellow of
such resources. ‘They’ll have to look pretty sharp after him
if they ever get him back,’ he thought. ‘I’ll have a fine tale
to tell of his ingenuity.’ The conversation of the previous
day occurred to him. ‘I promised to ask for a free pardon.
He wouldn’t have it, though. Too proud to accept it at my
hands! Wait until we get back. I’ll teach him his place; for,
after all, it is his own liberty that he is working for as well
as mine—I mean ours.’ Then a thought came into his head
that was in every way worthy of him. ‘Suppose we took the
boat, and left him behind!’ The notion seemed so ludicrous-
ly wicked that he laughed involuntarily.
‘What is it, Mr. Frere?’
‘Oh, it’s you, Sylvia, is it? Ha, ha, ha! I was thinking of
something —something funny.’
‘Indeed,’ said Sylvia, ‘I am glad of that. Where’s Mr.
Dawes?’