Page 396 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

bore with it sighs, and threats, and mutterings of revenge.
Oppressed by a terror of loneliness, she hastily caught up
the manuscript, and turned to seek the house, when, as if
summoned from the earth by the power of her own fears, a
ragged figure barred her passage.
To the excited girl this apparition seemed the embodi-
ment of the unknown evil she had dreaded. She recognized
the yellow clothing, and marked the eager hands out-
stretched to seize her. Instantly upon her flashed the story
that three days since had set the prison-town agog. The des-
perado of Port Arthur, the escaped mutineer and murderer,
was before her, with unchained arms, free to wreak his will
of her.
‘Sylvia! It is you! Oh, at last! I have escaped, and come to
ask—What? Do you not know me?’
Pressing both hands to her bosom, she stepped back a
pace, speechless with terror.
‘I am Rufus Dawes,’ he said, looking in her face for the
grateful smile of recognition that did not come—‘Rufus
Dawes.’
The party at the house had finished their wine, and, sit-
ting on the broad verandah, were listening to some gentle
dullness of the clergyman, when there broke upon their
ears a cry.
‘What’s that?’ said Vickers.
Frere sprang up, and looked down the garden. He saw
two figures that seemed to struggle together. One glance
was enough, and, with a shout, he leapt the flower-beds, and
made straight at the escaped prisoner.