Page 520 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

It would be madness to land at Cape Surville, for the whole
station would be on the alert; so Blunt, as night was falling,
stood off a little across the mouth of Pirates’ Bay. He was
walking the deck, groaning at the folly of the expedition,
when a strange appearance on the southern horn of the bay
made him come to a sudden halt. There was a furnace blaz-
ing in the bowels of the mountain! Blunt rubbed his eyes
and stared. He looked at the man at the helm. ‘Do you see
anything yonder, Jem?’
Jem—a Sydney man, who had never been round that
coast before— briefly remarked, ‘Lighthouse.’
Blunt stumped into the cabin and got out his charts. No
lighthouse was laid down there, only a mark like an anchor,
and a note, ‘Remarkable Hole at this Point.’ A remarkable
hole indeed; a remarkable ‘lime kiln’ would have been more
to the purpose!
Blunt called up his mate, William Staples, a fellow whom
Sarah Purfoy’s gold had bought body and soul. William
Staples looked at the waxing and waning glow for a while,
and then said, in tones trembling with greed, ‘It’s a fire. Lie
to, and lower away the jolly-boat. Old man, that’s our bird
for a thousand pounds!’
The Pretty Mary shortened sail, and Blunt and Staples
got into the jolly-boat.
‘Goin’ a-hoysterin’, sir?’ said one of the crew, with a grin,
as Blunt threw a bundle into the stern-sheets.
Staples thrust his tongue into his cheek. The object of the
voyage was now pretty well understood among the carefully
picked crew. Blunt had not chosen men who were likely to

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