“That was a very clever speech of the old man’s—very clever,” he remarked sardonically. “There was only one fault about it, and that was that he didn’t speak the truth. He spoke of our seizure of the ship as a crime. Well, maybe it is, according to the law, but we all know by this time that the laws are made in favour of the rich and against the poor; and we know, too, that law is not justice. For my own part, when I perform an act of justice I don’t feel very particular about whether what I am doing is legal or illegal, if it is just it is quite sufficient to satisfy my conscience. The law, shipmates, is nothing—is no safe guide for a man’s conscience, for we know that many a wrong, cruel, and unjust act is still perfectly legal—more shame to those that have the making and the powers of the laws in their hands. If you and I had been dealt with justly instead of merely legally, the money that bought this ship and cargo would have gone into our pockets as wages for the toil and hardship, the suffering and danger that we have been daily exposed to, instead of going as profit into the pockets of the merchants. Therefore I maintain that in seizing this ship and her cargo we have acted with strict justice, inasmuch as that we have merely taken possession of what ought in justice to have been ours at the outset—we have repaid ourselves a portion of the wages that we have been defrauded of during the many years that we have followed the sea. Why, mates, is it fair, or reasonable, or just, to ask a man to risk his life every day, as we do, for three pounds a month? Why, if our wages were three pounds a day it would not be too much. Reckon that up, you Bill Rogers, for all the years you’ve been following the sea, and how much will it amount to? Why, a precious sight more than your share of this ship and her cargo. But, lads, we’ve agreed to have our dues, and we’ll have them, too, every penny of them; and if our only way of getting them is by turning pirates, why let the blame rest with those who have driven us to it. Justice is our right, and we will have it, let who will suffer for it, and upon that point we are all agreed. Aren’t we, shipmates?”
“Ay, ay, of course we are—certainly, give us justice—give us our just rights, we want no more,” murmured the men in response to Williams’ appeal.
“There is only one thing I should like to know,” remarked one man timidly, “and that is, how we are going to manage without murder if we’re going into the pirating business?”
“Ha! is that you, Tom?” remarked Williams satirically. “You are a cautious one, you are; don’t want to run your neck into a noose, eh? Well, you are quite right, shipmate, quite right. But you need not trouble yourselves, any of you, there will be no murder. I have a plan whereby we can avoid all unpleasantness of that kind, and still make ourselves perfectly secure, and I will explain that plan to you in due time, but not now; there are more important matters claiming my attention at this moment. Where is Ned? Here, Ned, bring out the chart and spread it upon the capstan-head, and you, lads, go to your stations.”
Upon which the men retired, their torpid consciences silenced, and themselves more than half convinced of the righteousness of their actions. As for Ned, he muttered to himself as he went off to get the chart:
“Clever fellow—very; a regular sea-lawyer! Wonder who he is, and what he was before he took to the sea? Shall have all my work cut out to get to windward of him.”
Ned soon returned with the chart, which he spread open upon the capstan-head as desired, when Williams and Rogers approached and regarded the document with looks of the profoundest wisdom.
“A queer-looking spot, isn’t it?” remarked Williams to his companion, indicating with a rapid motion of his finger the entire area of ocean lying between Celebes, New Guinea, and the northern coast of Australia.
“Very queer!” assented Rogers, with a solemnity in keeping with the subject.
Whereupon the pair once more inspected the chart for several minutes with the same look of preternatural wisdom as before, to Ned’s intense but covert amusement.