However much he might have been disposed to make a fresh appeal on his companion’s behalf, Pete had no opportunity; for, upon the boat being run alongside of a roughly-made wharf, he and the others were hurried out and marched away to a kind of warehouse, and the care of them handed over to some people in authority, by whom they were shut-in, glad of the change from the broiling sun outside to the cool gloom of the interior, lit only by a grated window high up above the door, from which the rays streamed across the open roof, leaving the roughly-boarded floor in darkness.
After a few minutes the eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and the men seated themselves upon the empty chests and barrels lying about, Pete securing one for Nic, who sat down mechanically, with his head thrown back so that he could gaze at the light. Pete contented himself with the rough floor, where he half-lay, listening to his companions in misfortune, half-a-dozen yards away, as they talked over their position and wondered where they were to go—to a man keeping aloof from Pete, the traitor they accredited with bringing them to their present state.
The men were better informed than Pete had been, his stay in company with Nic and the dislike in which he was held by his old companions having kept him in ignorance of facts which they had picked up from the sailors. And now Pete gradually grasped in full that of which he had previously only had an inkling—that the pick of the prisoners had been reserved for man-o’-war’s-men, those who were considered unsuitable having been reserved for handing over to the colonists. This was in accordance with a custom dating as far back as the days of Cromwell, the Protector being accredited with ridding himself of troublesome prisoners by shipping them off to the plantations as white slaves, most of them never to return.
“Well,” said Humpy Dee aloud, in the course of conversation, “I suppose it means work.”
“Yes,” said another; “and one of the Jacks told me you have to hoe sugar-cane and tobacco and rice out in the hot sun, and if you don’t do enough you get the cat.”
“If any one tries to give me the lash,” growled Humpy, “he’ll get something he won’t like.”
“They’ll hang you or shoot you if you try on any games, old lad,” said another of the men.
“Maybe, if they can,” said Humpy, with a laugh. “Perhaps we may be too many for them. I mean to take to the woods till I can get taken off by a ship.”
“Ah, who knows?” said another. “I aren’t going to give up. Place don’t look so bad. See that river as we come up here?”
“Of course,” growled Humpy.