‘Oh, yes. I’ll look in—say at nine. You can reckon your time by one of the chronometers. ’Tis Greenwich time, and our time will be about ——,’ and he named it.
He kissed me, and held me by the hands and looked at me as though his overflowing heart sought in vain to vent itself; then cutting the air with his clenched fist as if maddened by a sudden memory, he stepped out, turned and withdrew the key.
I waited for Will, but he did not quickly come. By this time it was nearly dark; some while earlier, however, I had thoroughly searched the cabin for means of making fire, and almost at the minute of giving up found a tinder-box and flint and matches in a little white box on a shelf. This apparatus was so like mine that I might have supposed Mr. Balls had presented it to the captain.
I lighted the lamp and sat listening to the noises in the cuddy. There was a constant tumult of voices and a clatter of metal dishes; I guessed that a crowd of the convicts were eating at the table, and, not easily finding fresh crockery, were employing the prison utensils. More than an hour had passed since Tom left, when the key was turned, and Will entered holding a pannikin of tea. When the door opened, the noise in the cuddy came in very strong and rudely; the wretches seemed to have gone off their heads again, and were bawling and singing as though something stronger than tea had filled their pannikins. They had managed to trim and light the cuddy lamps.
‘It’s time we were out of it,’ said Will, pulling off his coat and flinging down his cap with a shake of the head that drove the sweat drops in a little shower from his brow. ‘I’d rather take my chance on a bare plank than stick another week in this hell—and a hell it is, and a worse hell it is likely to become, though I hate strong words.’
‘Fall to your supper,’ said I, ‘and give me the news as you eat.’
He went to work and ate heartily. We had left plenty for him. Whilst he supped, he said that Abram had made Bates show him where the rum casks were kept. Bates told Tom of this, and Will, standing near, heard Tom ask Abram what the people intended to do. ‘“Why,” says the prize-fighter, “they’re going to brew a few bowls to drink one another’s health in. They mean to make a night of it. Don’t they deserve a little pleasure? You’ll take the head of the table, Butler, and give us a song.” “No,” says Tom, “I’m in charge of the ship——” “There’s Bates,” says Abram. “I’m in charge of the ship,” answered Tom savagely. “Don’t look to me to countenance this sort of thing. I should have hoped you and the other leaders valued your safety too highly to broach a rum-cask for the people.” A number of convicts,’ said Will, ‘who had drawn near, told Tom that if he interfered with their pleasures and liberty, they knew their remedy. Tom cursed them, and I thought would have spat at them,’ continued Will. ‘He grasped one of the strongest by the arm and, pointing to the boats, asked the man if he could count. The fellow fell back a step as though Butler had gone mad, and raised his arm to cover his face. “Count!” roared Tom. “One, two, three; good to hold about thirty men, leaving about two hundred and twenty to be roasted alive if the ship takes fire! Thirty to be picked up and hanged for this job!” he cried, with a laugh that had a real note of madness in it: “and the rest to be left here to fry or leap overboard, shrieking like the rats that’ll show them the road!” His manner, instead of further enraging, seemed to subdue the beasts. “There’ll be no fire,” said Abram; “why do’t you keep your tepper?”’
‘What followed?’ said I.
‘Butler walked away. Some of the convicts abused him when his back was turned. Barney Abram stood up for him. He said that Butler meant well, and that his anxiety for the ship’s safety proved his honesty. He was bad-tempered and a little mad; he was mad because he was being transported for what he had never done. Then, fearing I might be noticed as a listener, I slunk away, and Butler gave me the key, and told me to go to you and get some supper.’
He stayed until he had had time to make a good meal. We talked in murmurs, and nearly all our talk concerned our getting away from the ship. He told me that Bates thought that Tom would have ventured it this night had the gig been provisioned. Bates, he said, was wild to get out of the ship. He feared for his life.