The emotions with which Dudley saw the strangers depart were very
strong. It seemed like the last glimpse of civilised life to be
afforded him. It brought back the memory of happier hours. The
pleasant thoughts of early days returned; and as he did not wish that
any one should see the strong movements of his heart, he paused for
several minutes, till he thought the visitor and his party must have
descended the hill to some distance; and then, walking slowly to the
top and through the break in the cliffs, he followed the track which
they had pursued with his eye, till it lighted on them, and then
watched them till they were lost amongst the trees which surrounded
the spot where they had fixed their little encampment. Then turning
back to the sort of dwelling-place he had chosen, he spread the turf
within the enclosures thickly with the leaves which he stripped from
the branches. Kneeling down upon the ground, just without the
palisade, he prayed for about five minutes; and then rising, watched
the sky while it ranged through almost every colour of the rainbow,
till at length it became gray, and knowing that five minutes more
would bring darkness, he placed his knapsack as a pillow on the
leaves, and once more laid himself down to sleep. Slumber was not so
easily obtained, however, as it had been on the night before: he felt
better in body, indeed, but more depressed in mind. The visit of the
stranger had disturbed rather than calmed him; it had roused up
regrets which he had laboured to banish; it had shown him, more
forcibly than ever, the value of all which he had for ever lost, and
he lay and meditated painfully for more than one hour.
At length, however, he slept; and, although it lasted not for long,
his slumber was refreshing. Shortly after daybreak he was on foot
again, and felt lighter and easier than on the preceding day. Prayer
was his first occupation; and then going down to the banks of the
lake, he undressed and plunged in, swimming boldly, as he had been
accustomed to do while a student in a civilised land. The walk up the
hill warmed him again, though he had found the water very cold; but
there was invigorating refreshment in the cool wave; and the rejoicing
sensation of returning strength diminished to the eye of imagination
the dangers of the present, the evils of the past, and the dreariness
of the future. When he reached his hut, he lighted the fire as before,
put one of the fish he had caught to broil on the ashes, and then sat
down to consider what was to be done next. Tools he wanted of many
kinds, and weapons for the chase; and he saw that notwithstanding all
the advantages of education, the savage, accustomed to depend upon
himself alone, had great advantages over the European, habituated to
tax the industry of a thousand hands for the production of every
article he used. He had learned something, indeed, of the natural
resources of the country, of that which it produced spontaneously for
the support of life, and he doubted not that, till the winter came on,
he should be able to supply himself with all that was needful. The
intervening time he proposed to devote for preparations against that
period, when, although game might be more easily found, the tree and
the shrub would refuse all contributions. He would fashion for himself
a bow, he thought, tall and strong, such as he had drawn in early
days; he would prepare snares, ay, and nets, perhaps, from the fibrous
bark of the trees. The spoils of the chase should furnish him with
clothing, and he would lie in wait for the creatures of the wood, like
the hunters in the days of old.
He smiled as he thus thought, but there was bitterness in it, too; and
rising up, he set to work to complete that which the previous evening
had left undone.
He had hardly commenced, however, when the sound of voices calling
reached him, and looking out from his hut, he saw his visitor of the
night before, with three men, each laden with his several burden.
Dudley suspended his labour, but did not advance to meet them. The
society of one he could bear, but the presence of many was a load to
him.
"There; lay the things down under the tree," said Captain M----, when
they were within about a hundred yards, "and then go and do as I told
you, taking care, if you find any of the specimens I mentioned, not to
break the crystals. You can return about two. Till then leave me here
without interruption, except in case of emergency."
The men deposited their burdens on the ground, and the young officer,
coming frankly forward to his new acquaintance, shook hands with him,
saying, "This wild life has a strange charm. I think I could go on
roving through these scenes as long as life and health lasted."
"Do you see that sun," asked Dudley, "soaring up from the dark
horizon, like an eagle from its eyry?[1] Do not, however, suppose it
is that which gives the light and beauty you find in these scenes. The
sun is in man's heart. You have no dark shadow on you, either innate
or accidental. You have no foul thoughts to mourn, as some in these
lands have. You have no black cloud hanging over fame, and blighting
life, like myself. You have no disappointed hopes, and fruitless
yearnings for friendships and affections lost for ever, to spread the
golden pathway of the sky with a dull, gray pall. Well may all seem
bright to you: you have no despair."
"Man should never despair so long as there is a pure spot in his
heart," replied Captain M----; "and the innocent wrongly condemned
should despair least of all, knowing that there is one who sees where
man sees not, and who, though in wisdom he may chastise, yet in his
own good time will comfort and raise up."
"It is that faith alone which gives me strength to live," replied
Dudley; "but yet my fate is sad: so sad as to darken all around. Were
it not for that chance of change below, which hope ever holds out to
the man not utterly lost, and for that certainty of change in another
world which faith affords to the believer, life here, to a man wronged
and blasted as I have been, would be a boon not worth the keeping.
What have I to look forward to?--a life of toilful solitude,
struggling each day for bare subsistence, without companionship or
sympathy, without speech, without object, without reward, and with the
high privilege of thought unfruitful except of bitterness and ashes.
When the time of age and sickness comes, too, what will be my fate
then? But I will not think of it. I shall be an idiot before that, or
worse, a savage."
"Nay, I trust not," answered Captain M----. "If you are innocent, as
you say, sooner or later that innocence will appear, and--"
"Impossible!" replied Dudley. "I had a fair and impartial trial; there
was a skilful and well-conducted defence; the jury were men of probity
and sense; the judge mild and equitable. All was done that could be
done, and hope on that side would be worse than vain."
"Then you must learn to endure your lot," said Captain M----, gravely,
"and to make it as tolerable as possible by your own exertions. I can
do little to help you or to render it easier, but that little I will
do. I have brought you up a few things that may be a comfort to you
for a time, and some others which will be of more permanent service. I
can well spare them, for I shall embark to-night, and can procure
more. Come and see the little store, which, though mere trifles, may
be of much use to you: at least till you have become accustomed by
degrees to the fate which has fallen upon you."
Dudley followed him with a full heart; and sitting down by the bundles
which the men had brought up, Captain M---- exposed to his companion's
eyes what was, indeed, a treasure to one placed in such strange and
fearful circumstances. There were blankets against the wintry cold,
and a rough wrapping coat; some packets of common medicines in a small
white wood box; a hammer, a small saw, and one or two other tools,
together with a good knife, and a measure. There was a case bottle,
too, and a drinking-cup, and some linen.
"This other packet," said Captain M----, "contains some books: one on
the botany of this colony, which may be very serviceable to you; a
single volume of essays, some sermons written for the convicts, the
Vicar of Wakefield, and a Bible."
"They will indeed be treasures," said Dudley, with a glad look. "A
Bible I already possess. That has been left to me, though I have
lost all else; and most grateful do I feel for so much kindness,
sir--kindness where I have no right nor title to expect it."
"Every man has a right to expect it of his fellow men," answered
Captain M----; "and I should be worse than a brute if I could refuse it
to one circumstanced as you are, when I will not pretend to doubt your
innocence."
"That is strange!" said Dudley, thoughtfully; "that you should not
doubt it, knowing nothing of me, while others who knew much, did
doubt."
"And yet," answered his companion, "I am not without a reason. I have
accustomed myself much to observe men, and the way in which they act,
under particular circumstances, and I never yet saw one who owned he
had a fair and impartial trial in every particular, and yet declared
himself innocent, unless he was innocent. There has been always a
something which he thought unfair--a cause why he had been cast, as it
is termed; either the judge was wrong, or the jury was wrong, or the
witnesses were perjured, or the counsel for the prosecution had acted
unfairly, or something or another had given an unfavourable turn to
the trial. However, I will beg of you to accept of these little
articles, and moreover, this small writing-case, with which I have
travelled. I know not whether it will be useful to you at present,
being entirely unaware of the circumstances of your case; but at a
future period it may be most serviceable; and even now, if you feel
inclined to write a few lines to any friend in England, I will carry
your letter safe to the next post, and take care that it shall be
forwarded to its destination."
"What can I say?" asked Dudley, putting his hand to his brow, and
speaking as it were to himself. "Nevertheless, I will write, if it be
but a few words, to tell them that I still live;" and thanking Captain
M---- again and again, especially for his last gift, Dudley seated
himself, and wrote as follows:--
"Dear Edgar,
"Though deprived of the power of seeing you before I went, I heard
something of your kindness, and my heart will ever be grateful. I know
you have never doubted my innocence, nor has Eda. Tell her, for me,
that I am innocent, and that my innocence and my faith are my only
support. I have quitted the colony to which I was sent: broken, in
short, the bonds which they placed upon me, and I am now living in
perfect, utter solitude. Tell her I love her still--shall always love
her. Yet, let her forget me; for what but pain can follow remembrance
of one so lost to hope and all that brightens earth as
"Edward Dudley."
He folded the letter, and addressed it, and then gazed at it for a
moment with a somewhat puzzled expression of countenance. "How shall I
seal it?" he said at length.
"You will find wax and a light-box in the top of the case," answered
Captain M----, with a smile. "That which I provided for a long journey
amongst civilised men as well as wild nature, may serve you for many
months in this solitude."
"For many years," said Dudley, sadly; "but yet it will be a treasure
and a consolation to me. Even the capability of noting down the
passing of the days is something, and I thank you from the very bottom
of my heart."
The letter was accordingly sealed and delivered to the charge of
Captain M----, who looked at the address with interest, thinking, as
he did so, "I must inquire into this case, for it seems a very strange
one."
In the mean time, Dudley was gazing at the light-box with a thoughtful
air. "This will be most serviceable too," he said at length, "for I
can foresee that in the winter I shall have much difficulty in
procuring fire. There are no flints here; and although I know that the
savages can obtain a light by rubbing pieces of dry wood together, yet
I have seen none that is fit for the purpose. I have had great
difficulty already in lighting a fire, and the scorched branches which
afforded me the means of doing so will soon be exhausted. I must wrap
this little box carefully up, so as to keep it from all damp, and
doubtless the matches will last me through the winter.
"I am sorry there are no more of them," answered Captain M----; "but at
all events they will give you time to learn other contrivances. I know
not well, indeed, how you procure food, for I suppose you do not live
altogether on the produce of the lake."
"I do not propose to do so," said Dudley, "for in some seasons I
believe it would afford me no supply; but I must have recourse to the
old primeval means--the bow and arrows, and the snare," he added, with
a smile.
Captain M---- looked for a moment or two at the fine double-barrelled
gun which lay beside him, before he answered; but then, raising his
eyes with a frank, kind expression, he said, "Perhaps I am doing
wrong, but I cannot make up my mind to leave you altogether dependent
upon such very precarious means of support. I have said I believe you
innocent; let me add, I feel sure you are a man of honour also, and if
you will promise me never to use what I am going to give against human
life, except in your own defence, and especially not against any one
sent to take you, in case such a thing should ever occur, I will leave
you this gun, and supply you with ammunition. You will then be in a
condition always to procure food at least."
The promise he required was readily made; and Dudley said little more,
for the feeling of gratitude he experienced was overpowering. He sat
with his head leaning on his hand, buried in meditation; and who can
trace the wild range of his thoughts during the few minutes which he
thus remained silent. His companion saw that his kindness had plunged
him into that sort of gloom which is often produced by feelings the
most noble and the most tender, when they stand strongly contrasted
with some dark and irremediable point in the fate of those who
experience them; and in order rather to rouse him from his reverie
than anything else, he said, "I suppose you are well accustomed to the
use of a gun."
"I will show you," answered Dudley, who was certainly one of the most
skilful marksmen of his day. "Let us walk down the hill; we shall
doubtless find some game; and if you will permit me, I will prove that
you do not place your gun in inexpert hands."
"Willingly," replied Captain M----, rising from the ground where he
had been seated. "I am sorry I have not more powder and shot with me;
but I will leave upon the spot where our little party is encamped all
that we have, except a few charges, which may be necessary as we go
down towards the sea-shore. If you are provident it will serve you for
some time; and ere long, depend upon it, a population will grow up
around you from whom you will be able to obtain fresh supplies. This
country must be destined to be much more thickly populated very soon.
The human race is advancing in every direction, and the progress
already made is marvellous."
"That is the most frightful consideration of all the many which
present themselves to the mind in contemplating the present state of
the neighbouring colony," replied Dudley. "When one thinks of its
rapid progress, and of the multitudes springing up here like a crop of
grain, and remembers that almost every seed is diseased, that the
moral condition of almost every human being is either tainted at his
arrival, or destined soon to be tainted by the contaminating
influences to which he is exposed, what can we look forward to in the
future but a perfect hell upon earth? Can we expect that, without
efficient guidance, with few means of religious instruction, with no
moral restraints and no correcting principle but the fear of corporeal
punishment, destitute of even habitual reverence for probity, crowded
together in places where virtue, and honour, and honesty, are a scoff
and a reproach, where the highest distinction is excess in vice or
skill in crime, can we expect that any man who may become a father
will breed his child up in the way that he should go, and will not
rather infect him with his own vices, to be fostered and matured by
others, equally, if not more, conversant with crime? It is a known
fact, sir, that in the neighbouring colony of Van Dieman's Land the
free emigrant of the lower class is looked upon with more doubt and
suspicion even than the convict, and is, nine times out of ten, as
base and degraded. What must a colony become thus constituted? and
what is the awful responsibility upon a nation which, possessing a
large, I might say an immense, extent of fertile and beautiful
country, plants in it, as the germ of future nations, all that is
wretched, abominable, and depraved of the mother country; denies the
wretched men that it sends out the means of amelioration, and by every
law and ordinance insures that the pestilence shall be propagated from
man to man, till none but those who are placed above temptation by
superior fortune or superior culture remains unaffected by moral
disease more frightful than any plague which ever ravaged the world?"
"But how can this be amended?" asked Captain M----. "What are the
means?"
"They require deep consideration," replied Dudley. "It is the actual
state of things which first strikes us; the remedies may be long in
seeking. This is more especially the case when a particular system has
long been going on, and every attempt at partial reform has but added
evil to evil, till at length the whole has become intolerable. The
natural process is easily described; and it is only by historically
viewing the question that we can see how such monstrous abominations
have arisen. These things are not done as a whole: it is step by step
that they are performed. If man sat down calmly to consider what was
best to be done under particular circumstances, if he meditated
philosophically upon the object which he proposed to attain, and
endeavoured to foresee, as far as the shortness of the human view will
permit, the results of all that he attempts for temporary purposes, he
might frame, and would frame, if not a perfect system, at least one,
the defects in which would be comparatively few, and easily remedied;
but what has been usually his course? He has considered the temporary
purpose alone, and that not philosophically. In the first institution
of transportation, his object seemed to be twofold: to punish guilty
persons, and to deliver their country from their presence. Simple
exile was the simplest form in which this could be achieved; the next
was the selling of the convict for a slave; then came the
transportation to a colony of the mother country, with a prohibition
against return: otherwise the peopling of a colony with the vicious
and the criminal; then punishment in the colony was added to mere
transportation; and in all and every one of these steps, nothing was
held in view but infliction on the culprit--relief to his native land.
Reformation was never thought of, degradation was never guarded
against; the moral condition of the convict, or his religious
improvement, was never taken into consideration; nor did the mind of
man seem to reach, till within the last few years, the comprehension
of that essential point in the whole question, that where the convict
was going he was to become the member of a vast community, the state
and condition of which would for years be strictly connected with that
of the country which expelled him. None of these things were ever
thought of, and still less the high and imperative duty which binds
legislators to attempt, in punishing, to reclaim; a duty not only to
their country and to their fellow men, but to their God."
Captain M---- seemed to ponder over his companion's words for a few
moments, and then replied. "I doubt not that what you say is true. The
evils you speak of have arisen, in a great part, from the want of a
due comprehension and consideration of the objects to be obtained; but
were that all, the evils of the system existing would be speedily
remedied; but I fear there is another great error which statesmen have
fallen into, and which will ever, as long as it is persisted in, throw
insuperable obstacles in the way of reform. The error I allude to is a
belief that corporeal punishment will reclaim. I am convinced that its
only tendency is to degrade and render more vicious the person on whom
it is inflicted. That it must exist I do not deny, for the probability
of incurring it must be held up before the convict's view, to deter
him from adding fresh crimes to those which have gone before; but the
principal means I would employ would be entirely moral means:
encouragement to a right course, exhortation, instruction, and the
chance of recovering gradually that sense of moral dignity, the want
of which is a source of all evil."
"A theory which may be pushed too far," said Dudley, "though excellent
in itself. Punishment is undoubtedly needful, both as a restraint and
an act of justice, but believe me also, that coercion as a means is
likewise required. I am convinced that in all these matters we try to
generalize too much. If we consider the infinite variety of human
characters, we shall see that an infinite variety of means is required
in the direction of any large body of human beings. To expect that any
man, or any body of men, should be able to scrutinize the character of
each individual convict, so as to apply the precise method of
treatment to his particular case, would be to require far too much;
but the rules and regulations adopted by a government, and carried out
by its officers in the colony, should be such as to render the
application of particular means as easy as possible. Entrusted to
well-instructed and observing men, a general knowledge of the
character of each convict could be easily obtained from his conduct on
his passage, and of the crime for which he received sentence. The
reports thus obtained might form the basis for correct classification
on the arrival of each ship; and the distribution of the unfortunate
men sent out might be afterwards made in accordance with this
classification. Thus you would save those comparatively pure from
contamination, and you would reduce the number of those requiring
strict supervision and coercion to the utmost possible extent. You
would acquire, in fact, the power of at once applying the means to the
end; you would know where moral means would be most efficacious, where
restraint was most needful, and have some guidance for shaping your
conduct according to the necessities of the case. I am aware, indeed,
that some classification is made, but of the most imperfect character,
and this I look upon as one of the causes of the total failure of the
system of transportation. I believe, also, the machinery, both for
improving the moral conduct of the convict, and for preventing crime
after his arrival in the colony, has been most inadequate from the
very beginning. I look upon it that one of the greatest possible
objects is, by constant and active supervision, to prevent the
possibility of a vicious course being pursued for some time after the
convict's arrival in the colony. Believe me, that to dishabituate his
mind from the commission of evil, is the first step to habituate it to
the pursuit of good. But what has been the case? When first convicts
were sent to this colony--the period is not very remote--it never
seemed to enter into the contemplation of those who sent them to
afford them any religious instruction, and it was entirely owing to
the exertions of a private individual that the means of spiritual
improvement were provided them at all; and now, when the influx of
these unhappy men into Van Dieman's Land is from five thousand to nine
thousand per annum, if we look either to the opportunities afforded
them of obtaining religious training, or to the power granted to the
local government of ensuring constant supervision, even in the cases
of the most hardened and irreclaimable, we shall find that it is
utterly inadequate to the numbers who require it. What can be the
result? What right have we to expect anything but that which we see?
With a system founded originally in an incomplete view of the case,
with an incomplete classification of the persons on whom it is to
operate, and with the most inefficient means of carrying out the
objects which should be ever held in view, the failure is inevitable;
and thus has a place set apart for the reception of criminals, whom it
was a duty not only to punish but to reform, become a mere nest of
unreclaimed felons, and a school for every species of vice and
wickedness which can degrade the human race, and bring eternal
destruction upon the soul of man. The way in which these colonies have
been conducted, I do not scruple to say, is a great national sin,
which cannot be without it punishment."
The conversation proceeded in the same strain for some time further,
during which they made their way slowly downward towards the banks of
the lake, now pursuing a green path amongst large masses of rook and
stone, now descending natural steps as it were in the coral rock, now
pausing to gaze with interest into one of the deep caves which pierced
the side of the precipice, and in which the light assumed a shadowy
red from the hue of the internal walls. To two warm-hearted and
enthusiastic men, a conversation so deeply affecting the best
interests of their fellow-creatures was, as may well be supposed,
highly interesting, and there was something in the grandeur, the
wildness, and the solitude of the scene, which seemed to elevate and
expand the thoughts as they reasoned of the destinies of the
multitudes fated to be the fathers of a population about ere long to
overspread the wide uncultivated tracts around them. The morning was
balmy and refreshing, the sun had not yet risen high enough to render
the heat burdensome; and as their course lay along the eastern side of
that wide basin, the cool shadows of the rocks, and hills, and trees,
spread out long and blue over the rugged precipices and the verdant
turf at their feet. For a time they forgot the object of their walk,
but at length Dudley pointed to a spot in the sky, saying, "There is a
vulture, and if you will permit me I will try my skill in bringing him
down. He will soon come near; for I have remarked in travelling hither
that in this country the birds of prey, whenever they see a moving
object, approach it rapidly. The butchers of the air have not yet
learned that there are butchers of the earth more powerful than
themselves."
"You had better draw out the balls and put in some slugs," said
Captain M----, handing him the gun; "though I suspect he will not come
within range."
"I will try the ball upon him," said Dudley; "I used not often to miss
my mark, but it is two long years since I had gun or rifle in my
hand;" and gazing down upon the highly finished fowling-piece, he
thought of the morning when he had gone out to shoot with Edgar
Adelon, and all the dark and terrible events which had followed.
Suddenly rousing himself, after a few moments he looked up towards the
sky again, and saw that the bird had approached much nearer, skimming
along just over the summit of the crags which towered above them, and
with curved neck and bent head, eyeing them as he sailed along. Dudley
put the gun to his shoulder, and though Captain M---- remarked, "He is
much too far," pulled the trigger, after a momentary pause. The report
was hardly heard before the broad wings fluttered with convulsive
beating, collapsed, and whirling round and round in the air, the
tyrant of the mountain came thundering down at the distance of some
thirty yards from them. When they reached the spot where he lay they
found him quite dead, though the yellow eyes still rolled in the bare
skinny head. The ball had passed right through him; but it seemed that
he had recently been inflicting the fate upon some other creature
which he had just received himself, for his strong horny bill and
talons were red with blood, which, from its fresh appearance, could
not have been shed very long.
"This would seem a species of condor," said Captain M----, after
examining it carefully. "What an immense extent of wing! I must carry
it away with me as a very fine specimen."
"I thought the condor was confined to South America," said Dudley;
"but I am very ignorant of such subjects, and certainly here shall not
have any temptation to form a museum of natural history. I must save
whatever powder and shot you can afford me, for the sole purpose of
obtaining food, and refrain from spending it upon my fellow-animals of
prey."
"It is a condor, I think," answered his companion; "and I believe that
species is spread more generally over both the old and new world than
is supposed. They are very rare, however, everywhere."
"I have seen many strongly resembling this creature hovering about
these cliffs and the top of the neighbouring hill," answered Dudley;
"but, of course, I never could approach one till now, for they did not
think fit to attack me, and I had no means of bringing them down. We
will carry it back with us; but first, I must provide you with some
dinner, and the lake is my only resource. Some of the feathers of this
good gentleman will make an artificial fly, not at all unlike those I
saw yesterday on the shore;" and sitting down by the dead vulture, he
speedily constructed an insect which had sufficient resemblance to
those they were accustomed to devour, to deceive the voracious
inhabitants of the waters.
Five or six large fish, not exactly trout, but somewhat resembling
that species, repaid an hour's angling; and then walking back, the two
wanderers, each with his own particular burden, made their way to the
spot where Dudley's fire had been lighted the day before. Their meal
was frugal enough; bread they had none; their drink was supplied by a
little stream issuing from the rocks; but yet it seemed pleasant to
both, and Captain M---- said, with a smile, when he saw his companion
somewhat puzzled as to how he should distribute the food, "I can see
you are not accustomed to this roving life. The memory of old habits
clings to you still; but as far as my experience shows me, it is
wonderfully less tenacious with uncultivated than with cultivated
minds. A few months is quite sufficient to qualify any convict for a
bushranger."
"It would take years so to qualify me," replied Dudley. "I affect no
particular degree of refinement, but I do think the delicacies of life
form one of the greatest charms of society. They are, in fact, based
upon higher principles than at first appear. I believe that they are
all founded upon the maxim, 'neither to be, nor to seem, nor to do
anything, which can be unnecessarily offensive to others.' This
implies no sacrifice of principle, and no unreasonable subserviency of
manner; for the moment a man tries to bend what is right to what is
courteous, that instant courtesy becomes a vice; but I never yet heard
a reasonable opinion which could not be so expressed as to offend no
reasonable man; and with regard to the minor and to the conventional
courtesies, to omit them where no wrong is implied would be a
violation of that which is due to our follow-men and to ourselves.
Nevertheless, you must not expect towels and water-basins in the
desert to wash after you have eaten with your fingers, any more than
you must expect bread where there are no ovens, or wine where no
grapes grow."
"I am perfectly satisfied," answered Captain M----, in a gay tone; "I
shall find my finger-glass at the little stream there, and my napkin
on the green grass; but still, my good friend, there are several
little things which may be serviceable to you in my small encampment
down below. I shall have no need of them, going back so soon; and I do
heartily believe there are no less than four or five round-pointed
table-knives, and at least three two-pronged forks. Some towels, too,
may not come amiss; and if ever you should have another dinner-party
here, they may serve as napkins as well. I will leave them on the spot
when we go away, and you can take possession of them at your leisure.
I could procure you, too, a box of nails from the ship; but I do not
know how to convey them to you without discovering your retreat to
those on board; and, doubtless, you would not like to come into too
near proximity with the people of the vessel, especially as they have
orders to search for and seize an escaped convict of the name of
Brady; a most desperate fellow, who has hitherto frustrated every
attempt to take him. He has somehow made his way over hither from Van
Dieman's Land, at least it is supposed so."
"He has not come to this district, as far as I have seen," answered
Dudley; "but still it would be better to avoid all recognition.
Nevertheless, I will admit, this box of nails you speak of would be of
greater value to me than a box of pure gold, and if you will put it on
shore at a spot where these two hills are in a direct line with each
other, I will seek it and bring it away. I might say I will hereafter
find some way to show my gratitude; but now I have none, nor any hope
of so doing. I can therefore but thank you again and again, and say,
would there was a chance of my being able to do that for you and yours
which my heart prompts, but which my means forbid."
"Not for ever, not for ever," answered Captain M----.
"I feel very sure that if you but persevere in abstaining from evil, a
time will come when errors will be removed and truth made manifest."
"Beyond the grave," answered Dudley; and then suddenly changing the
conversation, he carried it on in a somewhat lighter tone, till
Captain M---- rose to leave him. They parted like two old friends who
might never meet again, and while one carried away a feeling of deep
intense interest and curiosity, the other remained with a sensation of
desolation more profound and painful than ever.