The morning after this, the Rev. Mr. North departed in the schoonerfor Hobart Town. Between the officious chaplain and the Commandant theevents of the previous day had fixed a great gulf. Burgess knew thatNorth meant to report the death of Kirkland, and guessed that he wouldnot be backward in relating the story to such persons in Hobart Townas would most readily repeat it. "Blank awkward the fellow's dying,"he confessed to himself. "If he hadn't died, nobody would have botheredabout him." A sinister truth. North, on the other hand, comfortedhimself with the belief that the fact of the convict's death under thelash would cause indignation and subsequent inquiry. "The truth mustcome out if they only ask," thought he. Self-deceiving North! Fouryears a Government chaplain, and not yet attained to a knowledge of aGovernment's method of "asking" about such matters! Kirkland's mangledflesh would have fed the worms before the ink on the last "minute" fromdeliberating Authority was dry.
Burgess, however, touched with selfish regrets, determined to baulk theparson at the outset. He would send down an official "return" of theunfortunate occurrence by the same vessel that carried his enemy, andthus get the ear of the Office. Meekin, walking on the evening of theflogging past the wooden shed where the body lay, saw Troke bearingbuckets filled with dark-coloured water, and heard a great splashing andsluicing going on inside the hut. "What is the matter?" he asked.
"Doctor's bin post-morticing the prisoner what was flogged this morning,sir," said Troke, "and we're cleanin' up."
Meekin sickened, and walked on. He had heard that unhappy Kirklandpossessed unknown disease of the heart, and had unhappily died beforereceiving his allotted punishment. His duty was to comfort Kirkland'ssoul; he had nothing to do with Kirkland's slovenly unhandsome body,and so he went for a walk on the pier, that the breeze might blow hismomentary sickness away from him. On the pier he saw North talking toFather Flaherty, the Roman Catholic chaplain. Meekin had been taught tolook upon a priest as a shepherd might look upon a wolf, and passed witha distant bow. The pair were apparently talking on the occurrence ofthe morning, for he heard Father Flaherty say, with a shrug of his roundshoulders, "He woas not one of moi people, Mr. North, and the Govermintwould not suffer me to interfere with matters relating to Prhotestintprisoners." "The wretched creature was a Protestant," thought Meekin."At least then his immortal soul was not endangered by belief in thedamnable heresies of the Church of Rome." So he passed on, givinggood-humoured Denis Flaherty, the son of the butter-merchant of Kildrum,a wide berth and sea-room, lest he should pounce down upon him unawares,and with Jesuitical argument and silken softness of speech, converthim by force to his own state of error--as was the well-known custom ofthose intellectual gladiators, the Priests of the Catholic Faith. North,on his side, left Flaherty with regret. He had spent many a pleasanthour with him, and knew him for a narrow-minded, conscientious, yetlaughter-loving creature, whose God was neither his belly nor hisbreviary, but sometimes in one place and sometimes in the other,according to the hour of the day, and the fasts appointed for duemortification of the flesh. "A man who would do Christian work in ajog-trot parish, or where men lived too easily to sin harshly, bututterly unfit to cope with Satan, as the British Government hadtransported him," was North's sadly satirical reflection upon FatherFlaherty, as Port Arthur faded into indistinct beauty behind theswift-sailing schooner. "God help those poor villains, for neitherparson nor priest can."
He was right. North, the drunkard and self-tormented, had a power forgood, of which Meekin and the other knew nothing. Not merely were themen incompetent and self-indulgent, but they understood nothing ofthat frightful capacity for agony which is deep in the soul ofevery evil-doer. They might strike the rock as they chose withsharpest-pointed machine-made pick of warranted Gospel manufacture,stamped with the approval of eminent divines of all ages, but the waterof repentance and remorse would not gush for them. They possessed notthe frail rod which alone was powerful to charm. They had no sympathy,no knowledge, no experience. He who would touch the hearts of men musthave had his own heart seared. The missionaries of mankind have everbeen great sinners before they earned the divine right to heal andbless. Their weakness was made their strength, and out of their ownagony of repentance came the knowledge which made them masters andsaviours of their kind. It was the agony of the Garden and the Crossthat gave to the world's Preacher His kingdom in the hearts of men. Thecrown of divinity is a crown of thorns.
North, on his arrival, went straight to the house of Major Vickers. "Ihave a complaint to make, sir," he said. "I wish to lodge it formallywith you. A prisoner has been flogged to death at Port Arthur. I saw itdone."
Vickers bent his brow. "A serious accusation, Mr. North. I must, ofcourse, receive it with respect, coming from you, but I trust that youhave fully considered the circumstances of the case. I always understoodCaptain Burgess was a most humane man."
North shook his head. He would not accuse Burgess. He would let theevents speak for themselves. "I only ask for an inquiry," said he.
"Yes, my dear sir, I know. Very proper indeed on your part, if you thinkany injustice has been done; but have you considered the expense, thedelay, the immense trouble and dissatisfaction all this will give?"
"No trouble, no expense, no dissatisfaction, should stand in the way ofhumanity and justice," cried North.
"Of course not. But will justice be done? Are you sure you can proveyour case? Mind, I admit nothing against Captain Burgess, whom I havealways considered a most worthy and zealous officer; but, supposing yourcharge to be true, can you prove it?"
"Yes. If the witnesses speak the truth."
"Who are they?" "Myself, Dr. Macklewain, the constable, and twoprisoners, one of whom was flogged himself. He will speak the truth, Ibelieve. The other man I have not much faith in."
"Very well; then there is only a prisoner and Dr. Macklewain; for ifthere has been foul play the convict-constable will not accuse theauthorities. Moreover, the doctor does not agree with you."
"No?" cried North, amazed.
"No. You see, then, my dear sir, how necessary it is not to be hasty inmatters of this kind. I really think--pardon me for my plainness--thatyour goodness of heart has misled you. Captain Burgess sends a reportof the case. He says the man was sentenced to a hundred lashes for grossinsolence and disobedience of orders, that the doctor was present duringthe punishment, and that the man was thrown off by his directions afterhe had received fifty-six lashes. That, after a short interval, he wasfound to be dead, and that the doctor made a post-mortem examination andfound disease of the heart."
North started. "A post-mortem? I never knew there had been one held."
"Here is the medical certificate," said Vickers, holding it out,"accompanied by the copies of the evidence of the constable and a letterfrom the Commandant."
Poor North took the papers and read them slowly. They were apparentlystraightforward enough. Aneurism of the ascending aorta was given as thecause of death; and the doctor frankly admitted that had he known thedeceased to be suffering from that complaint he would not have permittedhim to receive more than twenty-five lashes. "I think Macklewain isan honest man," said North, doubtfully. "He would not dare to returna false certificate. Yet the circumstances of the case--the horriblecondition of the prisoners--the frightful story of that boy--"
"I cannot enter into these questions, Mr. North. My position here is toadminister the law to the best of my ability, not to question it."
North bowed his head to the reproof. In some sort of justly unjust way,he felt that he deserved it. "I can say no more, sir. I am afraid Iam helpless in this matter--as I have been in others. I see that theevidence is against me; but it is my duty to carry my efforts as faras I can, and I will do so." Vickers bowed stiffly and wished him goodmorning. Authority, however well-meaning in private life, has in itsofficial capacity a natural dislike to those dissatisfied persons whopersist in pushing inquiries to extremities.
North, going out with saddened spirits, met in the passage a beautifulyoung girl. It was S
ylvia, coming to visit her father. He lifted his hatand looked after her. He guessed that she was the daughter of the man hehad left--the wife of the Captain Frere concerning whom he had heard somuch. North was a man whose morbidly excited brain was prone to strangefancies; and it seemed to him that beneath the clear blue eyes thatflashed upon him for a moment, lay a hint of future sadness, in which,in some strange way, he himself was to bear part. He stared after herfigure until it disappeared; and long after the dainty presence of theyoung bride--trimly booted, tight-waisted, and neatly-gloved--had faded,with all its sunshine of gaiety and health, from out of his mentalvision, he still saw those blue eyes and that cloud of golden hair.
CHAPTER XVII. CAPTAIN AND MRS. FRERE.
For the Term of His Natural Life Page 47