‘At Gravesend.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. The ship’s worked by lumpers and riggers till the convicts are aboard. We then drop down to Gravesend and await the crew, who arrive in a hoy in charge of a crimp. All this I know. You may take my word for it.’
‘Who occupies the forecastle until the crew come on board?’
‘Nobody. The lumpers and riggers sleep ashore.’ His eyes brightened, and he cried: ‘I see what you’re driving at! You’ve thought it out pretty closely, Marian! But you’re never in earnest, surely?’
‘Go on with your objections, dear.’
‘We’ll suppose you’re safely stowed away in the fore-peak. The convicts come on board. I keep a bright look-out, and find that Butler is not one of them?’
‘I have considered that,’ said I. ‘You’ll manage to communicate with me. If Tom is not one of the convicts, I must come out of my hiding-place whilst the captain is able to send me ashore. If Tom’s on board, I’ll not want to hear from you till England’s miles astern.’
‘How am I to communicate with you down in the fore-peak?’
‘You’ll find out, dear. There are ways. And aren’t you a sailor, Will?’