Walking was not difficult. The slanting of the deck was so gradual that one’s form swayed to the movement with the instinct and the ease of a wheeling skater. Not above half a dozen passengers were on deck, and Mrs. Webber, I was glad to see, was not amongst them; in truth, I was without the spirits, and perhaps without the strength just then, to support a course of her voluble tongue. When we approached the forward end of the poop we paused to survey the scene of the deck beneath us and beyond. I do not know how many emigrants the _Deal Castle_ carried; her decks appeared to be filled with men, women, and children that afternoon. You did not need to look at their attire to know that they were poor. There was everywhere an air of sullen patience, bitterly expressive of defeat, and of a dull and sulky resignation that might come in its way very near to hopelessness. Here and there were children playing, but their play was stealthy, snatched with fear, dulled by vigilance as though they knew that the blow and the curse could never be far off. A growling of voices ran amongst the men, and this noise was threaded by the shrill-edged chatter of women. But I do not remember that ever a laugh rose from amongst them. ‘Are all those people going to Australia?’ I asked Mrs. Lee. ‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘this ship does not call at any port. She is proceeding direct to Australia.’ ‘They appear to be very poor.’ ‘Most of them,’ said she, ‘have probably sold all they possess in the world, with the exception of the clothes upon their backs, to enable them to get to Australia. Poor creatures! I pity the women, and even more do I pity the children. How are they fed? Not so well, I am sure, as the pigs under that big boat yonder. And what sort of quarters have they below? Oh, gloomy, dark and evil-smelling be sure, and suffocating when the weather is heavy and the hatches are closed.’ ‘I should like to see the place where all those poor people sleep,’ said I. ‘I would not accompany you,’ she answered. ‘It is miserable to witness sufferings which one cannot soothe or help.’ ‘And what will they do when they arrive in Australia?’ ‘A good many will starve, I daresay, and wish themselves home. The colonies are full. There is plenty of land, but people when they arrive will not leave the towns. They will not do what those who created the colonies did--dig and build new places--and there is no room in the towns.’ ‘There are a great many people down there,’ said I, running my eye over the groups. ‘I wonder if any one of them has lost his memory.’