The change in the tone of his voice, no less than the sudden loudness
of the exclamation, made the faces, hitherto bent upon the door through
which Mr. Frere had passed, turn round again. To many there it seemed
that the "notorious Dawes" was no longer in the box, for, in place of
the upright and defiant villain who stood there an instant back, was a
white-faced, nervous, agitated creature, bending forward in an attitude
almost of supplication, one hand grasping the rail, as though to save
himself from falling, the other outstretched towards the bench. "Your
Honour, there has been some dreadful mistake made. I want to explain
about myself. I explained before, when first I was sent to Port Arthur,
but the letters were never forwarded by the Commandant; of course,
that's the rule, and I can't complain. I've been sent there unjustly,
your Honour. I made that boat, your Honour. I saved the Major's wife and
daughter. I was the man; I did it all myself, and my liberty was sworn
away by a villain who hated me. I thought, until now, that no one knew
the truth, for they told me that she was dead." His rapid utterance
took the Court so much by surprise that no one interrupted him. "I was
sentenced to death for bolting, sir, and they reprieved me because I
helped them in the boat. Helped them! Why, I made it! She will tell you
so. I nursed her! I carried her in my arms! I starved myself for
her! She was fond of me, sir. She was indeed. She called me 'Good Mr.
Dawes'."

At this, a coarse laugh broke out, which was instantly checked. The
judge bent over to ask, "Does he mean Miss Vickers?" and in this
interval Rufus Dawes, looking down into the Court, saw Maurice Frere
staring up at him with terror in his eyes. "I see you, Captain Frere,
coward and liar! Put him in the box, gentlemen, and make him tell his
story. She'll contradict him, never fear. Oh, and I thought she was dead
all this while!"

The judge had got his answer from the clerk by this time. "Miss Vickers
had been seriously ill, had fainted just now in the Court. Her only
memories of the convict who had been with her in the boat were those
of terror and disgust. The sight of him just now had most seriously
affected her. The convict himself was an inveterate liar and schemer,
and his story had been already disproved by Captain Frere."

The judge, a man inclining by nature to humanity, but forced by
experience to receive all statements of prisoners with caution, said
all