For the Term of His Natural Life

by Marcus Andrew Hislop Clarke

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

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

  "Poor, abandoned wretches," says Meekin, "I suppose not. How sweet themoonlight 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 theirbread. In the valley of the shadow of death He is with us. His staff,you know, Mr. North. Really, the Commandant's house is charminglysituated!"

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

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

  North pursed up his lips. "Yes, it is very complete," he said; "almosttoo 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 thatMr. 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 beenheard to state that white neck-cloths were of no consequence. Thedinner went off successfully. Burgess--desirous, perhaps, of favourablyimpressing the chaplain whom the Bishop delighted to honour--shut offhis blasphemy for a while, and was urbane enough. "You'll find us rough,Mr. Meekin," he said, "but you'll find us 'all there' when we're wanted.This is a little kingdom in itself."

  "Like Beranger's?" asked Meekin, with a smile. Captain Burgess had neverheard of Beranger, but he smiled as if he had learnt his words by heart.

  "Or like Sancho Panza's island," said North. "You remember how justicewas administered there?"

  "Not at this moment, sir," said Burgess, with dignity. He had been oftenoppressed by the notion that the Reverend Mr. North "chaffed" him. "Prayhelp yourself to wine."

  "Thank you, none," said North, filling a tumbler with water. "I have aheadache." His manner of speech and action was so awkward that a silencefell upon the party, caused by each one wondering why Mr. North shouldgrow confused, and drum his fingers on the table, and stare everywherebut at the decanter. Meekin--ever softly at his ease--was the first tospeak. "Have you many visitors, Captain Burgess?"

  "Very few. Sometimes a party comes over with a recommendation from theGovernor, and I show them over the place; but, as a rule, we see no onebut ourselves."

  "I asked," said Meekin, "because some friends of mine were thinking ofcoming."

  "And who may they be?"

  "Do you know Captain Frere?"

  "Frere! I should say so!" returned Burgess, with a laugh, modelled uponMaurice Frere's own. "I was quartered with him at Sarah Island. So he'sa friend of yours, eh?"

  "I had the pleasure of meeting him in society. He is just married, youknow."

  "Is he?" said Burgess. "The devil he is! I heard something about it,too."

  "Miss Vickers, a charming young person. They are going to Sydney, whereCaptain Frere has some interest, and Frere thinks of taking Port Arthuron his way down."

  "A strange fancy for a honeymoon trip," said North.

  "Captain Frere takes a deep interest in all relating to convictdiscipline," went on Meekin, unheeding the interruption, "and is anxiousthat Mrs. Frere should see this place."

  "Yes, one oughtn't to leave the colony without seeing it," says Burgess;"it's worth seeing."

  "So Captain Frere thinks. A romantic story, Captain Burgess. He savedher life, you know."

  "Ah! that was a queer thing, that mutiny," said Burgess. "We've got thefellows here, you know."

  "I saw them tried at Hobart Town," said Meekin. "In fact, theringleader, John Rex, gave me his confession, and I sent it to theBishop."

  "A great rascal," put in North. "A dangerous, scheming, cold--bloodedvillain."

  "Well now!" said Meekin, with asperity, "I don't agree with you.Everybody seems to be against that poor fellow--Captain Frere tried tomake me think that his letters contained a hidden meaning, but Idon't believe they did. He seems to me to be truly penitent for hisoffences--a misguided, but not a hypocritical man, if my knowledge ofhuman nature goes for anything."

  "I hope he is," said North. "I wouldn't trust him."

  "Oh! there's no fear of him," said Burgess cheerily; "if he growsuproarious, we'll soon give him a touch of the cat."

  "I suppose severity is necessary," returned Meekin; "though to my ears aflogging sounds a little distasteful. It is a brutal punishment."

  "It's a punishment for brutes," said Burgess, and laughed, pleased withthe nearest approach to an epigram he ever made in his life.

  Here attention was called by the strange behaviour of Mr. North. He hadrisen, and, without apology, flung wide the window, as though he gaspedfor air. "Hullo, North! what's the matter?"

  "Nothing," said North, recovering himself with an effort. "A spasm. Ihave these attacks at times." "Have some brandy," said Burgess.

  "No, no, it will pass. No, I say. Well, if you insist." And seizing thetumbler offered to him, he half-filled it with raw spirit, and swallowedthe fiery draught at a gulp.

  The Reverend Meekin eyed his clerical brother with horror. The ReverendMeekin was not accustomed to clergymen who wore black neckties, smokedclay pipes, chewed tobacco, and drank neat brandy out of tumblers.

  "Ha!" said North, looking wildly round upon them. "That's better."

  "Let us go on to the verandah," said Burgess. "It's cooler than in thehouse."

  So they went on to the verandah, and looked down upon the lights ofthe prison, and listened to the sea lapping the shore. The ReverendMr. North, in this cool atmosphere, seemed to recover himself, andconversation progressed with some sprightliness.

  By and by, a short figure, smoking a cheroot, came up out of the dark,and proved to be Dr. Macklewain, who had been prevented from attendingthe dinner by reason of an accident to a constable at Norfolk Bay, whichhad claimed his professional attention.

  "Well, how's Forrest?" cried Burgess. "Mr. Meekin--Dr. Macklewain."

  "Dead," said Dr. Macklewain. "Delighted to see you, Mr. Meekin."

  "Confound it--another of my best men," grumbled Burgess. "Macklewain,have a glass of wine." But Macklewain was tired, and wanted to get home.

  "I must also be thinking of repose," said Meekin; "the journey--thoughmost enjoyable--has fatigued me."

  "Come on, then," said North. "Our roads lie together, doctor."

  "You won't have a nip of brandy before you start?" asked Burgess.

  "No? Then I shall send round for you in the morning, Mr. Meekin. Goodnight. Macklewain, I want to speak with you a moment."

  Before the two clergymen had got half-way down the steep path that ledfrom the Commandant's house to the flat on which the cottages of thedoctor and chaplain were built, Macklewain rejoined them. "Anotherflogging to-morrow," said he grumblingly. "Up at daylight, I suppose,again."

  "Whom is he going to flog now?"

  "That young butler-fellow of his." "What, Kirkland?" cried North. "Youdon't mean to say he's going to flog Kirkland?"

  "Insubordination," says Macklewain. "Fifty lashes."

  "Oh, this must be stopped," cried North, in great alarm. "He can't standit. I tell you, he'll die, Macklewain."

  "Perhaps you'll have the goodness to allow me to be the best judge ofthat," returned Macklewain, drawing up his little body to its leastinsignificant stature.

  "My dear sir," replied North, alive to the importance of conciliatingthe surgeon, "you haven't seen him lately. He tried to drown himselfth
is morning."

  Mr. Meekin expressed some alarm; but Dr. Macklewain re-assured him."That sort of nonsense must be stopped," said he. "A nice example toset. I wonder Burgess didn't give him a hundred."

  "He was put into the long dormitory," said North; "you know what sort ofa place that is. I declare to Heaven his agony and shame terrified me."

  "Well, he'll be put into the hospital for a week or so to-morrow," saidMacklewain, "and that'll give him a spell."

  "If Burgess flogs him I'll report it to the Governor," cries North, ingreat heat. "The condition of those dormitories is infamous."

  "If the boy has anything to complain of, why don't he complain? We can'tdo anything without evidence."

  "Complain! Would his life be safe if he did? Besides, he's not the sortof creature to complain. He'd rather kill himself."

  "That's all nonsense," says Macklewain. "We can't flog a whole dormitoryon suspicion. I can't help it. The boy's made his bed, and he must lieon it."

  "I'll go back and see Burgess," said North. "Mr. Meekin, here's thegate, and your room is on the right hand. I'll be back shortly."

  "Pray, don't hurry," said Meekin politely. "You are on an errand ofmercy, you know. Everything must give way to that. I shall find myportmanteau in my room, you said."

  "Yes, yes. Call the servant if you want anything. He sleeps at theback," and North hurried off.

  "An impulsive gentleman," said Meekin to Macklewain, as the sound of Mr.North's footsteps died away in the distance. Macklewain shook his headseriously.

  "There is something wrong about him, but I can't make out what it is. Hehas the strangest fits at times. Unless it's a cancer in the stomach, Idon't know what it can be."

  "Cancer in the stomach! dear me, how dreadful!" says Meekin. "Ah!Doctor, we all have our crosses, have we not? How delightful the grasssmells! This seems a very pleasant place, and I think I shall enjoymyself very much. Good-night."

  "Good-night, sir. I hope you will be comfortable."

  "And let us hope poor Mr. North will succeed in his labour of love,"said Meekin, shutting the little gate, "and save the unfortunateKirkland. Good-night, once more."

  Captain Burgess was shutting his verandah-window when North hurried up.

  "Captain Burgess, Macklewain tells me you are going to flog Kirkland."

  "Well, sir, what of that?" said Burgess.

  "I have come to beg you not to do so, sir. The lad has been cruellypunished already. He attempted suicide to-day--unhappy creature."

  "Well, that's just what I'm flogging him for. I'll teach my prisoners toattempt suicide!"

  "But he can't stand it, sir. He's too weak."

  "That's Macklewain's business."

  "Captain Burgess," protested North, "I assure you that he does notdeserve punishment. I have seen him, and his condition of mind ispitiable."

  "Look here, Mr. North, I don't interfere with what you do to theprisoner's souls; don't you interfere with what I do to their bodies."

  "Captain Burgess, you have no right to mock at my office."

  "Then don't you interfere with me, sir."

  "Do you persist in having this boy flogged?"

  "I've given my orders, sir."

  "Then, Captain Burgess," cried North, his pale face flushing, "I tellyou the boy's blood will be on your head. I am a minister of God, sir,and I forbid you to commit this crime."

  "Damn your impertinence, sir!" burst out Burgess. "You're a dismissedofficer of the Government, sir. You've no authority here in any way;and, by God, sir, if you interfere with my discipline, sir, I'll haveyou put in irons until you're shipped out of the island."

  This, of course, was mere bravado on the part of the Commandant. Northknew well that he would never dare to attempt any such act of violence,but the insult stung him like the cut of a whip. He made a stridetowards the Commandant, as though to seize him by the throat, but,checking himself in time, stood still, with clenched hands, flashingeyes, and beard that bristled.

  The two men looked at each other, and presently Burgess's eyes fellbefore those of the chaplain.

  "Miserable blasphemer," says North, "I tell you that you shall not flogthe boy."

  Burgess, white with rage, rang the bell that summoned his convictservant.

  "Show Mr. North out," he said, "and go down to the Barracks, and tellTroke that Kirkland is to have a hundred lashes to-morrow. I'll show youwho's master here, my good sir."

  "I'll report this to the Government," said North, aghast. "This ismurderous."

  "The Government may go to----, and you, too!" roared Burgess. "Get out!"And God's viceregent at Port Arthur slammed the door.

  North returned home in great agitation. "They shall not flog that boy,"he said. "I'll shield him with my own body if necessary. I'll reportthis to the Government. I'll see Sir John Franklin myself. I'll have thelight of day let into this den of horrors." He reached his cottage, andlighted the lamp in the little sitting-room. All was silent, save thatfrom the adjoining chamber came the sound of Meekin's gentlemanly snore.North took down a book from the shelf and tried to read, but the lettersran together. "I wish I hadn't taken that brandy," he said. "Fool that Iam."

  Then he began to walk up and down, to fling himself on the sofa, toread, to pray. "Oh, God, give me strength! Aid me! Help me! I struggle,but I am weak. O, Lord, look down upon me!"

  To see him rolling on the sofa in agony, to see his white face, hisparched lips, and his contracted brow, to hear his moans and mutteredprayers, one would have thought him suffering from the pangs of someterrible disease. He opened the book again, and forced himself to read,but his eyes wandered to the cupboard. There lurked something thatfascinated him. He got up at length, went into the kitchen, and founda packet of red pepper. He mixed a teaspoonful of this in a pannikin ofwater and drank it. It relieved him for a while.

  "I must keep my wits for to-morrow. The life of that lad depends uponit. Meekin, too, will suspect. I will lie down."

  He went into his bedroom and flung himself on the bed, but only to tossfrom side to side. In vain he repeated texts of Scripture and scrapsof verse; in vain counted imaginary sheep, or listened to imaginaryclock-tickings. Sleep would not come to him. It was as though he hadreached the crisis of a disease which had been for days gathering force."I must have a teaspoonful," he said, "to allay the craving."

  Twice he paused on the way to the sitting-room, and twice was he drivenon by a power stronger than his will. He reached it at length, andopening the cupboard, pulled out what he sought. A bottle of brandy.With this in his hand, all moderation vanished. He raised it to hislips and eagerly drank. Then, ashamed of what he had done, he thrust thebottle back, and made for his room. Still he could not sleep. The tasteof the liquor maddened him for more. He saw in the darkness the brandybottle--vulgar and terrible apparition! He saw its amber fluid sparkle.He heard it gurgle as he poured it out. He smelt the nutty aroma ofthe spirit. He pictured it standing in the corner of the cupboard, andimagined himself seizing it and quenching the fire that burned withinhim. He wept, he prayed, he fought with his desire as with a madness. Hetold himself that another's life depended on his exertions, that to giveway to his fatal passion was unworthy of an educated man and a reasoningbeing, that it was degrading, disgusting, and bestial. That, at alltimes debasing, at this particular time it was infamous; that a vice,unworthy of any man, was doubly sinful in a man of education and aminister of God. In vain. In the midst of his arguments he found himselfat the cupboard, with the bottle at his lips, in an attitude that was atonce ludicrous and horrible.

  He had no cancer. His disease was a more terrible one. The ReverendJames North--gentleman, scholar, and Christian priest--was what theworld calls "a confirmed drunkard".

  CHAPTER XV. ONE HUNDRED LASHES.