Page 679 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

sir.’
North was in despair, but a bright thought struck him—
a thought that, in his soberer moments, would never have
entered his head—he would buy admission. He produced
the rum flask from beneath the sheltering cloak. ‘Come,
don’t talk nonsense to me, Gimblett. You don’t suppose I
would come here without authority. Here, take a pull at this,
and let me through.’ Gimblett’s features relaxed into a smile.
‘Well, sir, I suppose it’s all right, if you say so,’ said he. And
clutching the rum bottle with one hand, he opened the door
of Dawes’s cell with the other.
North entered, and as the door closed behind him, the
prisoner, who had been lying apparently asleep upon his bed,
leapt up, and made as though to catch him by the throat.
Rufus Dawes had dreamt a dream. Alone, amid the
gathering glooms, his fancy had recalled the past, and had
peopled it with memories. He thought that he was once
more upon the barren strand where he had first met with
the sweet child he loved. He lived again his life of usefulness
and honour. He saw himself working at the boat, embark-
ing, and putting out to sea. The fair head of the innocent
girl was again pillowed on his breast; her young lips again
murmured words of affection in his greedy ear. Frere was
beside him, watching him, as he had watched before. Once
again the grey sea spread around him, barren of succour.
Once again, in the wild, wet morning, he beheld the Amer-
ican brig bearing down upon them, and saw the bearded
faces of the astonished crew. He saw Frere take the child
in his arms and mount upon the deck; he heard the shout

For the Term of His Natural Life