‘It couldn’t have happened,’ he exclaimed, ‘but for our men. Many of them are as vile as the worst of the convicts. I was on the poop and saw it all, and it was as quickly done as letting go a topsail-halliards. The prisoners’ messmen massed themselves as usual past the main-hatch at breakfast-time; I noticed some of our sailors loafing near the convicts’ galley within leap of the main-hatch sentry. I also saw a cluster of seamen standing close in the way of the forecastle sentry’s walk. I heard a loud shout; I’ll swear it was the prize-fighter’s voice. In an instant the forecastle sentry was knocked down by the seamen; the main-hatch sentry was seized from behind and disarmed by the sailors who rushed from the convicts’ galley. The messmen threw down their breakfast utensils as a sort of second signal; I watched and saw it all, Marian; quicker than I can talk the convicts on deck made for the quarter-deck barricade-gate, and fast as water pours through a scupper-hole the prisoners came streaming up out of their quarters. The quarter-deck sentry levelled his piece and fired, and a convict dropped. The convicts forced the gate; the sentry bayoneted the first of them and was then knocked down; his musket was wrested from him, and a brutal ruffian beat his head in with the stock as the poor fellow lay on his back. The poop sentries fired at the convicts as they burst through the barrier, but in a few moments the prisoners got possession of the arms in the recess and swarmed up by either ladder. Oh, it was a splendid, maddening, frightful sight to see those two soldiers, one at each ladder, holding the steps against the yelling mob until one was beaten down and killed as I have told you!’ ‘Hark to the noise overhead!’ I cried. ‘The cuddy is full of men!’ Through the open porthole came faintly, like voices at a distance across the water, sounds of the shouting on deck. The wind had dropped. A sheet calm had fallen. Through the cabin window I saw the sea stretching to its dim, hot confines in a vast spread of soft silver blue, with scarce a breathing of swell to stir the ship. ‘What have they done with the captain?’ I asked. ‘As I ran to join Butler, a crowd of convicts gathered round the captain and doctor, as though to force them off the poop. I don’t think they hurt them.’ I asked some other questions. He had rallied, and now talked with something of composure. ‘Hush!’ cried he suddenly. ‘There are people outside.’ The door of the cabin next mine was beaten. Mine was then hammered on. ‘Are you there, Johnstone?’ It was Tom, and in a heart-beat I threw open the door. Beside him stood Mr. Bates, the chief officer of the ship. On my showing myself, Tom extended his arms and gathered me to his breast and held me tight. I broke into a little passion of sobs, but shed no tears. ‘You are free,’ I cried, drawing from him and grasping his hands and looking into his dear eyes.