Marcus Clarke

“ The iron-studded oak barricade that, loop-holed for musketry, and perforated with plated trapdoor for sterner needs, separated soldiers from prisoners, was close to her left hand, and the sentry at its padlocked door looked at her inquiringly. She laid her little hand on his big rough one—a sentry is but mortal—and opened her brown eyes at him. ”

“ Best—lower and man the quarter-boats! Mr. Frere—you can go in one, if you like, and take a volunteer or two from those grey jackets of yours amidships. I shall want as many hands as I can spare to man the long-boat and cutter, in case we want 'em. Steady there, lads! Easy!" and as the first eight men who could reach the deck parted to the larboard and starboard quarter-boats, Frere ran down on the main-deck.
Mrs. Vickers, of course, was in the way, and gave a genteel scream as Blunt rudely pushed past her with a scarce-muttered apology ”

“ Blunt, in his professional excitement, had already forgotten her presence, and Frere was in earnest conversation with Vickers.
"Take a boat?" said that gentleman. "Certainly, my dear Frere, by all means. That is to say, if the captain does not object, and it is not contrary to the Regulations——"
"Captain, you'll lower a boat, eh? We may save some of the poor devils," cries Frere, his heartiness of body reviving at the prospect of excitement.
"Boat!" said Blunt, "why, she's twelve miles off and more, and there's not a breath o' wind!" ”