Page 308 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

Didn’t you turn me out into the streets? Didn’t you lash me
with your whip like a dog? Didn’t you put me in gaol for it,
eh? It’s hard to struggle against you, Maurice.’
The compliment to his obstinacy seemed to please him—
perhaps the crafty woman intended that it should—and he
smiled.
‘Well, there; let old times be old times, Sarah. You haven’t
done badly, after all,’ and he looked round the well-fur-
nished room. ‘What do you want?’
‘There was a transport came in this morning.’
‘Well?’
‘You know who was on board her, Maurice!’
Maurice brought one hand into the palm of the other
with a rough laugh.
‘Oh, that’s it, is it! ‘Gad, what a flat I was not to think of
it before! You want to see him, I suppose?’ She came close
to him, and, in her earnestness, took his hand. ‘I want to
save his life!’
‘Oh, that be hanged, you know! Save his life! It can’t be
done.’
‘You can do it, Maurice.’
‘I save John Rex’s life?’ cried Frere. ‘Why, you must be
mad!’
‘He is the only creature that loves me, Maurice—the only
man who cares for me. He has done no harm. He only want-
ed to be free—was it not natural? You can save him if you
like. I only ask for his life. What does it matter to you? A
miserable prisoner—his death would be of no use. Let him
live, Maurice.’

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