men knocked up with flogging these rascals. If the
scourger won't do his duty, tie him up, and give him five-and-twenty for
himself. I'll be down in the morning myself if I can."

"Very good, your honour," says Troke.

Kirkland was put into a separate cell that night; and Troke, by way of
assuring him a good night's rest, told him that he was to have "fifty"
in the morning. "And Dawes'll lay it on," he added. "He's one of the
smartest men I've got, and he won't spare yer, yer may take your oath of
that."

CHAPTER XIV. Mr. NORTH'S DISPOSITION.

"You will find this a terrible place, Mr. Meekin," said North to his
supplanter, as they walked across to the Commandant's to dinner. "It has
made me heartsick."

"I thought it was a little paradise," said Meekin. "Captain Frere says
that the scenery is delightful." "So it is," returned North, looking
askance, "but the prisoners are not delightful."

"Poor, abandoned wretches," says Meekin, "I suppose not. How sweet the
moonlight sleeps upon that bank! Eh!"

"Abandoned, indeed, by God and man--almost."

"Mr. North, Providence never abandons the most unworthy of His servants.
Never have I seen the righteous forsaken, nor His seed begging their
bread. In the valley of the shadow of death He is with us. His staff,
you know, Mr. North. Really, the Commandant's house is charmingly
situated!"

Mr. North sighed again. "You have not been long in the colony, Mr.
Meekin. I doubt--forgive me for expressing myself so freely--if you
quite know of our convict system."

"An admirable one! A most admirable one!" said Meekin. "There were a
few matters I noticed in Hobart Town that did not quite please me--the
frequent use of profane language for instance--but on the whole I was
delighted with the scheme. It is so complete."

North pursed up his lips. "Yes, it is very complete," he said; "almost
too complete. But I am always in a minority when I discuss the question,
so we will drop it, if you please."

"If you please," said Meekin gravely. He had heard from the Bishop that
Mr. North was an ill-conditioned sort of person, who smoked clay pipes,
had been detected in drinking beer out of a pewter pot, and had been
heard to state that white neck-cloths were of no consequence. The
dinner went off successfully. Burgess--desirous, perhaps, of favourably
impressing the chaplain whom the Bishop delighted to honour--shut off
his blasphemy for a while, and was urbane enough. "You'll