Just then Tom came out of the cuddy by way of the quarter-deck, and went to Bates and Barney Abram, who stood together, with whom he spoke. Tom, attended by Bates, returned to the cuddy, and after an interval reappeared with a sextant-case, a chart or two, and such appliances as I supposed they would need in the long-boat to enable them to steer a course for land. These things were handed down to some convicts who were stowing the provisions in the boat. Tom stood in the gangway and looked down, and then called out for the oars, sail, and mast of the boat to be brought along and shipped. When he had seen to this, he glanced up, and, observing me, ascended the poop-ladder.
‘Hi!’ said he, walking up to the group of convicts, who had been talking and swearing and boasting of their plunder, but were now silent. ‘What are you doing here? This is no part of the ship for you!’ he cried, cursing them. ‘Get away down to your quarters! This poop is for the captain and the mate and Mr. Abram, and the rest of us, who are responsible for the safety of the vessel, and for landing you where you may bolt and get hanged at your leisure. Off with ye! Off with ye!’ And laying hold of the sturdiest he gave him a thrust.
The convicts were used to this sort of usage, and probably would have recognised no other treatment than that of kicks and curses. They yielded as submissively as felons to the command of an armed warder, went in a body down the ladder, and mingled with their fellows on the main-deck.
‘Those people below must be sent adrift,’ said Tom, coming to my side and talking as though he thought aloud. ‘It’s a hardship, but I see the need. If they’re kept, they’ll be murdered. They start well equipped—I’ve seen to that. It’s odds if they’re not picked up in a day or two, spite of our friend Will’s misgivings. They’ll take three boats from the ship. That’ll leave two and the gig. The gig’s for us. The convicts must see to themselves. It’s not a thing to be debated. It’s every man for himself at such times as these,’ and his eye went to the stain at the head of the poop-ladder where the sentry had been butchered.
‘Tom,’ said I, ‘if the sailors are leaving the ship, who’s to carry on the work?’
‘Seven or eight rogues stay,’ he answered. ‘Four or five of the convicts have been to sea. With near two hundred and fifty souls in the ship, I should be able to manage if I chose to keep by her. How many of the crew went to your complement?’ said he, turning to Will.
‘Thirty, sir,’ answered the lad.
‘All told?’
‘Thirty ordinary and able seamen and idlers,’ said Will.
‘They looked a ruffianly lot!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘The people counted upon more help than they got. Abram asked all hands to remain; only seven or eight chums and acquaintances of the prisoners stick to the ship. Those were the scoundrels who flung themselves upon the sentries. Yes, they’ll need two quarter-boats besides the long-boat. A numerous family to send afloat, and under the line, too, with—how many women and children?’