vern.

The "lady of the Commandant" was in a strange plight. The cavern was
lofty, but narrow. In shape it was three-cornered, having two sides open
to the wind. The ingenuity of Rufus Dawes had closed these sides with
wicker-work and clay, and a sort of door of interlaced brushwood hung at
one of them. Frere pushed open this door and entered. The poor woman was
lying on a bed of rushes strewn over young brushwood, and was moaning
feebly. From the first she had felt the privation to which she was
subjected most keenly, and the mental anxiety from which she suffered
increased her physical debility. The exhaustion and lassitude to
which she had partially succumbed soon after Dawes's arrival, had now
completely overcome her, and she was unable to rise.

"Cheer up, ma'am," said Maurice, with an assumption of heartiness. "It
will be all right in a day or two."

"Is it you? I sent for Mr. Dawes."

"He is away just now. I am making a boat. Did not Sylvia tell you?"

"She told me that he was making one."

"Well, I--that is, we--are making it. He will be back again tonight. Can
I do anything for you?"

"No, thank you. I only wanted to know how he was getting on. I must go
soon--if I am to go. Thank you, Mr. Frere. I am much obliged to you.
This is a--he-e--dreadful place to have visitors, isn't it?"

"Never mind," said Frere, again, "you will be back in Hobart Town in a
few days now. We are sure to get picked up by a ship. But you must cheer
up. Have some tea or something."

"No, thank you--I don't feel well enough to eat. I am tired."

Sylvia began to cry.

"Don't cry, dear. I shall be better by and by. Oh, I wish Mr. Dawes was
back."

Maurice Frere went out indignant. This "Mr." Dawes was everybody, it
seemed, and he was nobody. Let them wait a little. All that day, working
hard to carry out the convict's directions, he meditated a thousand
plans by which he could turn the tables. He would accuse Dawes
of violence. He would demand that he should be taken back as an
"absconder". He would insist that the law should take its course, and
that the "death" which was the doom of all who were caught in the act of
escape from a penal settlement should be enforced. Yet if they got safe
to land, the marvellous courage and ingenuity of the prisoner would tell
strongly in his favour. The woman and child would bear witness to his
tenderness and skill, and plead for him. As he had said, the convict
deserved a pardon. The mean,