The convict, wiping the blood from his face, turned on his heel
without a word, and went back through the strong oak door into his den.
Frere leant forward and took the girl's shapely hand with an easy gesture,
but she drew it away, with a flash of her black eyes.

"You coward!" she said.

The stolid soldier close beside them heard it, and his eye twinkled.
Frere bit his thick lips with mortification, as he followed the girl
into the cuddy. Sarah Purfoy, however, taking the astonished Sylvia
by the hand, glided into her mistress's cabin with a scornful laugh,
and shut the door behind her.




CHAPTER II.

SARAH PURFOY.



Convictism having been safely got under hatches, and put to bed
in its Government allowance of sixteen inches of space per man,
cut a little short by exigencies of shipboard, the cuddy was wont to pass
some not unpleasant evenings. Mrs. Vickers, who was poetical
and owned a guitar, was also musical and sang to it. Captain Blunt
was a jovial, coarse fellow; Surgeon Pine had a mania for story-telling;
while if Vickers was sometimes dull, Frere was always hearty.
Moreover, the table was well served, and what with dinner, tobacco,