The Convict Ship, Volume 2 (of 3)Russell, William Clark
General
The Convict Ship, Volume 2 (of 3)
Russell, William Clark
Convict ships -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
‘Seize the ship!’ he exclaimed with a little snort of contempt. ‘With a
file of soldiers splendidly placed ready to fire amongst the devils as
fast as they could load! With three sentries in addition to help! With
officers and a crew ready to support the soldiers! But, hang me,’ said
he, with a change of voice and peering close into my face to catch a
sight of me, ‘if I don’t think you’re sorry the ship wasn’t seized!’
‘I wish you didn’t excuse the diabolical murder. I’d shoot that sentry
with my own hand for killing a poor, unhappy madman goaded into
insanity, for all you know, by an unjust sentence. It might have been
Tom. Suppose Tom’s heart broke and his mind went? A soldier would shoot
him!’
‘D’ye know you hiss when you talk? I used to like your spirit, but love
is making a tigress of you. You make a fellow afraid?’
But I had not come to talk with him to do that. I wanted news, and he
had none; and I had no idea of scaring or disgusting the dear lad by
causing him to fancy that my sympathies were with the felons under
hatches when I had a heart but for one man only in the whole world.
Will was just the sort of lad to betray me that I might not come
to harm or harm others; so, after laughing at his likening me to a
tigress, I talked of Stepney and his father’s house near the Tower,
and in a few minutes the pair of us were happy in old, kind, gentle
memories.
He grew a little inquisitive presently, however, and asked me some
questions.
‘Have you thought of what you mean to do when you arrive at Hobart
Town?’
‘I shall be guided entirely by what is done with Tom,’ I answered.
‘Shall you settle in Tasmania?’
‘Somewhere in that part of the world,’ I said. ‘Once a convict, always
a convict. I know Tom and his proud heart; if his innocence could be
established on his arrival and liberty given to him, he’d not return
home. He hates England--I’ll swear it. And I hate home for his sake.’
‘You’ll sell your house in Stepney, I suppose!’
‘Yes, I may do that. There’s much I may do. I shall be guided by what
befalls Tom. I have money enough to establish ourselves in comfort. We
shall want for nothing in our new home.’
‘Maybe I shall turn squatter, myself,’ said Will. ‘There’s a big thing
to be done in wool. But give me New South Wales. I wish they had sent
Butler there. What’s become of the _Arab Chief_, I wonder? And does he
lose all the money he invested in her?’
‘No,’ said I.
Here some seamen came and lolled alongside of us; we could talk no
more, so I went aft.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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