“Dey’s trouble ob-hyer, an’ dey’s trouble ober dar,
An’ I really do believe dat dey’s trouble ebbywhar--
Trouble--trouble--”
And I knew the mates were working the liquor out of his black hide.
Soon the anchor was short, and then silence reigned for a time, broken only by the scurrying of a ship’s rat across the empty hold.
How oppressive the bilge heat was, and how rank the stench of the hold! The barque had evidently been built at a time when salting ships had not come into fashion, and her old timbers stunk. I tried to think of the events of yesterday, and wondered what had become of poor Tim. I feared they would give him the full penalty, for, although Renshaw was a notorious adventurer, he was interested in the craft, and was a friend of Hicks.
His position, also, called for summary vengeance upon a common sailor, even though that sailor was an American.
In my case, however, the affair was different. I had done nothing to either aid or abet Tim in his assault. I was deserting, and had admitted that, but I knew nothing of the other affair that had ended so uncomfortably and caused our arrest. Hawkson knew this well enough, and it was with him my fate rested. He might save me from a hanging yet.
I stood wondering when and how the case would be settled, and was very hot and tired, but the shackle would not allow me to either sit or lie down upon the deck. The pain caused by the strain upon my wrists was intense, and I swore loudly at the men who had forced me into the cursed ship.
Suddenly I thought I heard a laugh. I strained my eyes in the direction whence it came, and soon made out a shape sitting upon the lower step of the ladder leading on deck. It chuckled and grunted for some minutes, and I wondered what it was, when it rose, and I made out the figure of Watkins.