He nodded. "In the open boat at sea."
"How did you manage to escape? I thought convicts were too well looked after."
"So they are, under ordinary circumstances. Shipwrecks form the exception. I'll give you the history, Charley."
"Make it brief, then. I am upon thorns."
Tom laughed, and began:
"We were started on that blessed voyage, a cargo of men in irons, and for some time made a fair passage, and thought we must be nearing the other side. Such a crew, that cargo, Charles! Such an awful lot! Villainous wretches, who wore their guilt on their faces, and suffered their deserts; half demons, most of them. A few amongst them were no doubt like me, innocent enough; wrongfully accused and condemned——"
"But go on with the narrative, Tom."
"I swear I was innocent," he cried, with emotion, heedless of my interruption. "I was wickedly careless, I admit that, but the guilt was another's, not mine. When I put those bills into circulation, Charles, I knew no more they were forged than you did. Don't you believe me?"
"I do believe you. I have believed you throughout."
"And if the trial had not been hurried on I think it could have been proved. It was hurried on, Charles, and when it was on it was hurried over. I am suffering unjustly."