Summary

Marcus Clarke For the Term of His Natural Life…

The intelligence, transmitted by the ever-active semaphore, reached the Commandant in the midst of dinner, and in his agitation he blurted it out.
"These are the two poor things I saw in the morning," cried Sylvia. "Oh, Maurice, these two poor babies driven to suicide!"
"Condemning their young souls to everlasting fire," said Meekin, piously.
"Mr. Meekin! How can you talk like that? Poor little creatures! Oh, it's horrible! Maurice, take me away." And she burst into a passion of weeping.
"I can't help it, ma'am," says Burgess, rudely, ashamed. "It ain't my fault."
Source: Wikisource

Marcus Clarke For the Term of His Natural Life…

Sylvia was taken through the hospital and the workshops, shown the semaphores, and shut up by Maurice in a "dark cell". Her husband and Burgess seemed to treat the prison like a tame animal, whom they could handle at their leisure, and whose natural ferocity was kept in check by their superior intelligence. This bringing of a young and pretty woman into immediate contact with bolts and bars had about it an incongruity which pleased them. Maurice penetrated everywhere, questioned the prisoners, jested with the gaolers, even, in the munificence of his heart, bestowed tobacco on the sick.
Source: Wikisource

Marcus Clarke For the Term of His Natural Life…

The magnificent system starved and tortured a child of twelve until he killed himself. That was the way of it.
After luncheon the party made a progress. Everything was most admirable. There was a long schoolroom, where such men as Meekin taught how Christ loved little children; and behind the schoolroom were the cells and the constables and the little yard where they gave their "twenty lashes". Sylvia shuddered at the array of faces.
Source: Wikisource

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