‘You may growl as you please,’ said Tom, running his eyes angrily along the crowd of felons. ‘I’ve agreed to undertake as much as you have a right to expect. In agreeing to take charge, I convert myself into head criminal aboard you here; and of you all, I’m the surest to be hanged if we’re taken. Act as you please. Do what you like. My part’s big enough, isn’t it?’ ‘Yar might just answer a question!’ exclaimed a convict. ‘You want to turn the people below adrift,’ said Tom to Abram. ‘Do so.’ Mr. Bates looked at the sultry, breathless expanse of ocean; I caught his eye and witnessed horror and consternation in it. ‘How bany boats are we to give ’eb?’ said Abram. ‘Reckon the number of people, then find out the carrying capacity of the long-boat and quarter-boats. See that they are plentifully watered and provisioned. Give ’em a sextant and charts, sails, oars, and rudders; let them be wanting in nothing. It may tell for us, Abram. That’s all I mean to say--the rest you can do for yourselves.’ Whilst Tom spoke, the prize-fighter’s dead-black, fiery eyes were fixed upon Mr. Bates; his pock-marked face wore its habitual sardonic, leering, self-complacent expression. ‘Is it understood,’ said he, ‘that Bates is to help you to sail this ship?’ ‘Certainly. I must have help. I’ve told you I can’t stand a twenty-four-hours’ watch. I ask for no better sailor to help me than Bates.’ ‘He was one of the ship’s officers, and we’ll hold you responsible for his behaviour if you employ him,’ said one of the convicts, a tall, thin, gray-haired man, delicate, with something of refinement in his face, speaking with an educated accent. ‘Parsons, I can’t navigate this ship alone. I suppose you know that,’ said Tom, with heat. ‘We shall want to feel when we’ve turned in that we’re being honestly steered,’ answered the convict. (Tom afterward told me that this man had been a surgeon in a fair way of practice in a London suburb, and had been sentenced to transportation for life for arson.) ‘What do you know about the sea?’ cried my sweetheart, with the utmost scorn. ‘Abram, I can endure sensible opposition, but this sort of jaw is swinish. My neck’ll fit a halter as well as his,’ he added, pointing to Parsons; ‘but my life is more precious, certainly, for you’d not miss him if he dropped overboard; but let me go, and if this gentleman,’ and here he clapped Bates upon the shoulder, ‘refused to stand by you, and carry you to an agreed part of the world, I’d give you a week to be dismasted, to be pumping for your lives, to be in the utmost extremity. Have you sought your liberty to end as puffed and green carcasses a hundred fathoms deep over the side if the sharks let you plumb that depth?’