t the
reply. Under pretence of watching more carefully over the property of
the chaplain, he directed that any convict, acting as constable, might
at any time "search everywhere and anywhere" for property supposed to be
in the possession of a prisoner. The chaplain's servant was a prisoner,
of course; and North's drawers were ransacked twice in one week by
Troke. North met these impertinences with unruffled brow, and Frere
could in no way account for his obstinacy, until the arrival of the Lady
Franklin explained the chaplain's apparent coolness. He had sent in his
resignation two months before, and the saintly Meekin had been appointed
in his stead. Frere, unable to attack the clergyman, and indignant at
the manner in which he had been defeated, revenged himself upon Rufus
Dawes.

CHAPTER XIII. MR. NORTH SPEAKS.

The method and manner of Frere's revenge became a subject of whispered
conversation on the island. It was reported that North had been
forbidden to visit the convict, but that he had refused to accept the
prohibition, and by a threat of what he would do when the returning
vessel had landed him in Hobart Town, had compelled the Commandant to
withdraw his order. The Commandant, however, speedily discovered in
Rufus Dawes signs of insubordination, and set to work again to reduce
still further the "spirit" he had so ingeniously "broken". The unhappy
convict was deprived of food, was kept awake at nights, was put to the
hardest labour, was loaded with the heaviest irons. Troke, with devilish
malice, suggested that, if the tortured wretch would decline to see the
chaplain, some amelioration of his condition might be effected; but his
suggestions were in vain. Fully believing that his death was certain,
Dawes clung to North as the saviour of his agonized soul, and rejected
all such insidious overtures. Enraged at this obstinacy, Frere sentenced
his victim to the "spread eagle" and the "stretcher".

Now the rumour of the obduracy of this undaunted convict who had been
recalled to her by the clergyman at their strange interview, had reached
Sylvia's ears. She had heard gloomy hints of the punishments inflicted
on him by her husband's order, and as--constantly revolving in her
mind was that last conversation with the chaplain--she wondered at the
prisoner's strange fancy for a flower, her brain began to thrill with
those undefined and dreadful memories which had haunted her childhood.
What was the link betw