Marcus Clarke

“ Raising her arm, conspicuous by its white sleeve in the gloom, she beckoned Miles.
"The lantern," she whispered, "bring me the lantern!"
He unhooked it from the rope where it swung, and brought it towards her. At that moment the man in the bunk sat up erect, and twisted himself towards the light. "Sarah!" he cried, in shrill sharp tones. "Sarah!" and swooped with a lean arm through the dusk, as though to seize her.
The girl leapt out of the cabin like a panther, struck the lantern out of her lover's hand, and was back at the bunk-head in a moment. ”

“ She bent over the convict as if to arrange his pillow, and then glided out of the cabin, just as Pine descended the hatchway.
"Hallo!" cried he, stumbling, as he missed his footing; "where's the light?"
"Here, sir," says Miles, fumbling with the lantern. "It's all right, sir. It went out, sir."
"Went out! What did you let it go out for, you blockhead!" growled the unsuspecting Pine. "Just like you boobies! What is the use of a light if it 'goes out', eh?" ”

“ The convict was a young man of about four-and-twenty. His hands—clutched convulsively now on the blankets—were small and well-shaped, and the unshaven chin bristled with promise of a strong beard. His wild black eyes glared with all the fire of delirium, and as he gasped for breath, the sweat stood in beads on his sallow forehead. ”