Mr. Bates extended his hand, and Tom grasped it. The mate was a man of a somewhat slow turn of mind. He looked at me hard whilst he retained his grasp of my sweetheart’s hand, and said: ‘I have been thinking as much for some time. There never was a boy with your skin and eyes. Butler’s a lucky man!’
‘A wronged man!’ I cried.
‘I said so when I read the papers, and I’ve been saying it ever since aboard this ship, as you know, Johnstone.’
‘She shipped as Simon Marlowe,’ said Tom, ‘and so she remains—that’s understood. Mr. Bates, you stop here with her and Johnstone. I’ll bring Abram and others presently. The wolves are tearing the cuddy to pieces in their rage to eat and drink. No man’ll harm you as my friend. You three are my friends—friends!’ he cried, and again he took me in his arms and held me to him, then passionately broke away and said, speaking fast and harshly and with a fierceness I had noticed in his whispers: ‘They’ll not hurt you! The devils are helpless without me. There’s not a navigator amongst them. It was concerted I was to take charge, and I do so on my own terms.’
‘What have they done with the captain?’ cried Mr. Bates.
‘He’s in the prisoners’ quarters along with the doctor and Captain Barrett and the survivors of the guard. I fear the bad part of your sailors more than the convicts. There must be no bloodshed. But let them yell and roar. Give the mad spirits of the brutes time to languish. They have their liberty, but it is not the liberty of the shore, and they’ll not know what to do with it presently when they sober down and look around. Marian, my brave heart!’ For the third time he pressed me to him and stepped out, bidding us leave the door unbolted and to stay till he returned.
His face was white, hard and wild; his manner that of one who is full of rage and whose struggle to command it fills his eyes with the light of madness. Mr. Bates gazed at me when the door closed upon my sweetheart, and, plunging his hands in his pockets, said: ‘I owe him my life. He locked me in my cabin, and a number of the convicts were forcing the door when he thrust through and brought me out. He shouted: “Men, I have three friends; two are youngsters below, this is the third. You know our compact. You know who this man is. You have seen him often enough. He is an old shipmate of mine and a friend, and if a hair of his is harmed, you sail the ship yourselves.” The cuddy was full of convicts; but there fell a silence whilst he roared this out. He has a noble voice. He put his arm through mine and walked me to the hatch. The devils fell away from me and started shouting on other matters, as though I was out of it and concerned them no longer. He saved my life. They’ve killed poor Masters. They would have killed me.’
‘Is the second mate dead?’ gasped Will.
‘Butler told me so. Masters showed fight when they killed the sentry and rushed on to the poop, and he was cut down. So Butler told me as we came here. The convicts got hold of the soldiers’ arms, and it was all done out of hand. And what’s to become of the ship?’
‘What will they do with the captain and the doctor?’ said Will.