‘No!’ thundered Bates, roaring out as though he were hailing the fore-topsail in a gale of wind. ‘You’ve forced me into giving orders, and I’m cursing myself for my cowardice. But so help me, you men, as I stand here, one and all of you, good and bad, drunk and sober, as you listen, sooner than that you shall keep the women and children on the chance of my taking Butler’s place, you may now—now—now,’ he roared, pointing up, ‘turn to and reeve your yardarm whip and run me aloft. D’ye hear me! Now—now!’ he screamed, in the extremity of his wrath and resolution, and having spoken he backed from the knot of convicts out of the thick of whom he had exclaimed, put his shoulders against the bulwark, folded his arms and settled himself firmly on his legs as a man prepared for the worst, and at that instant he made as heroic a figure as Tom.
Silence followed. The hush was extraordinary. The deep stillness that lay upon the white ocean seemed to come into the ship as a spirit. I saw that Abram was at a loss. He looked savagely about him and made an angry step or two as though he would pace the deck. Tom, gripping the brass rail, kept his eyes, full of fire, upon Abram; his breast rose and fell violently with the vehemence of his breathing. Resolution as fearless and magnificent as the chief mate had given expression to was visible in his posture and looks, and not the grossest and most ignorant of the unhappy creatures who stared up could have mistaken his mind.
He seemed to wait for Abram to speak, then cried out, addressing the mass of men generally: ‘Is it your wish that I should navigate this ship and carry you to where we shall presently decide?’
Most of the fellows stared at one another like fools, as though they lacked courage to answer.
‘Answer me, any of you!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t think I care how it goes. Treat me as you’ve dealt with those whose blood stains these decks, and I’ll thank you. I’m a convict—the most wretched of the wretches among you—and broken-hearted as none of you are. Use me as you will. But if I take charge, I’m captain; and if I’m captain, my will in what concerns the general safety is law. The general safety will be imperilled by the detention of the women and children. I, a fellow-convict and seaman, tell you this. Now answer me: Am I in command or not?’
‘It was settled!’ howled Abram.
‘Johnson!’ cried Tom. ‘You at the hatchway there! Order the women and children on deck and pass them into the boat!’
Johnson kept silent.
‘Do what you’re told!’ shouted a voice. Then followed a hoarse, confused uproar from fifty throats: ‘Get ’em out of the ship!’ ‘Butler’s right! Who the plague wants to keep them?’ ‘It’ll lead to murder, and we want our liberty ashore.’
‘Order the women and children on deck!’ cried Tom; whereupon some man—but it was not the convict Johnson—bellowed down the main-hatch.