I stood viewing the ship and wondering at what part of her my sweetheart would appear. A man came from the forward end, looking from right to left with inspecting eyes as he walked; he approached and lightly surveyed me and the others who were waiting. He was a strongly built man, dressed in a sort of uniform frock coat decorated with a riband and clasp; on his head was a large bell-shaped cap like to what I have seen in pictures of German and Russian officers. The expression of his face was firm, but there was a colouring of kindness in it. A glow of interest kindled in his ball-like eyes, and saluting me with a flourish of his hand to the peak of his cap, he asked whom I had come to see. ‘One of the convicts, Thomas Butler,’ I answered. He stepped over to a warder, then returned. ‘Are you his wife, madam?’ ‘I am his sweetheart and engaged to be married to him,’ I said, colouring, and raised my hand to my veil, though I left my face exposed, nevertheless. ‘Ha!’ he exclaimed, with a sigh of pity. ‘He is innocent, sir. Devils in the shape of men have falsely sworn him into this dreadful situation.’ ‘They are all innocent who come here; they are all innocent,’ said he in a voice of great irony. ‘Are you the captain of this ship, sir?’ ‘This ship has no captain,’ he answered, smiling. ‘I am the deputy-governor.’ ‘Captain Butler is sentenced to fourteen years’ transportation; shall I know when he sails?’ ‘The rules will allow him to communicate with you. Our regulations are carried out with great consideration. You observe that if a friend calls while a man is away at labour, he is sent for.’ ‘How often may I see Captain Butler?’ ‘Every three months.’ ‘Oh, sir!’ I clasped my hands and rocked myself; then summoning my former spirit, for I was eager to get all information possible from this communicative and sympathetic personage, I said: ‘How often may I write to him and he to me?’ ‘Every three months,’ he repeated, but softly, with a glance at the waiting groups who had insensibly stolen toward us to listen. ‘He may sail within the next three months, and I shall not know where he is gone.’ ‘The regulations will permit of his communicating with you through the governor before he sails, and you will be allowed to bid him farewell.’ ‘And will he be able to tell me to what part of the world he is to be sent?’ ‘That’s not always known at the Admiralty, down, sometimes, to the last minute. A convict ship has before now brought up in the Downs bound to Hobart Town or Norfolk Island, and her destination has been changed by express to Botany Bay.’ He touched his cap with a slight bow having thus spoken, and crossed to the other waiting poor folks as though willing to be questioned.