‘Yes, I may do that. There’s much I may do. I shall be guided by what befalls Tom. I have money enough to establish ourselves in comfort. We shall want for nothing in our new home.’
‘Maybe I shall turn squatter, myself,’ said Will. ‘There’s a big thing to be done in wool. But give me New South Wales. I wish they had sent Butler there. What’s become of the Arab Chief, I wonder? And does he lose all the money he invested in her?’
‘No,’ said I.
Here some seamen came and lolled alongside of us; we could talk no more, so I went aft.
All next day the doctor was full of business. I heard him tell the captain at the breakfast-table what the routine was to be: at half-past eight prayers and a portion of the Scriptures were to be read to the prisoners in divisions, some below, some on deck, as the weather might permit; then schools were to be formed, but this could not be done until the doctor had ascertained the ability of the prisoners to read—he needed time to put a book into each man’s hand to test him. Every school would consist of nine or ten pupils; schoolmasters would be selected from the best educated of the convicts. School would be held morning and afternoon; after supper, at four o’clock, the doctor would regularly deliver a lecture on any subject likely to improve and enlighten his hearers.
You’ll suppose he was a busy man. Indeed! he had a hundred things to see to. Besides the schools, the lectures and the like, exercise had to be arranged for, the washing of linen, airing of bedding and so forth. Then there was the hospital to visit, troublesome convicts to examine and punish, a journal to write up, and I know not what besides. This, the first Monday of fine weather and freedom of irons, was spent by him in planning the convict routine for the voyage. I collected from his talk at the table that the prisoners were very quiet, and looking forward with interest to the educational work he was cutting out for them. He told Captain Sutherland he had addressed them below very seriously on the Sunday morning’s tragic business; in fact at lunch he spoke out without reserve.
‘I was impressed,’ said he, ‘by the thoughtful looks of many of the unhappy people when I bade them accept the death of the poor, miserable man Garth as an awful warning—not in respect of discipline, not in respect of the penalty that attaches to insubordination, but in regard to their souls’ health.’ And then he occupied ten minutes in repeating what he had said to the convicts. Lieutenant Chimmo hemmed and tried to break through the dull prosing; but the doctor loved his own eloquence too well to let his companions off a single sentence that he could recollect. ‘I believe,’ said he, ‘that there is some good in that man Barney Abram, after all. I observed that he was very attentive at Divine service yesterday.’
‘But he is not of your persuasion, surely?’ said Captain Sutherland.
‘He’s of the persuasion of them all,’ answered the doctor.
‘The persuasion that has the devil for high priest, eh, Ellice?’ said Captain Barrett.