Captain Sutherland and the others sat near the foremost skylight that stood but a short distance from the break of the poop. The captain told me to put the tray down on the skylight and fetch a bottle of brandy. I returned with the brandy and a corkscrew, when, just as I was about to draw the cork, the doctor lifted his hand, and with an odd pleased look, bade me stand still and make no noise. Then it was that I heard a sound of singing; the melody was a hymn, but I cannot give it a name; I have since believed it was the air of a well-known hymn sung to words which were written by some convict converted into an honest man by the doctor during a previous voyage. I judged by the volume of sound that about ten men sang; they sat under the hatch where the gratings made a frame like a bird-cage, otherwise we should not have heard them. They sang well, in good time, and one deep voice was noticeable for its manner of working into the singing in a harmonising way as though the fellow knew music. Captain Barrett asked a question. ‘Hush, I beg of you,’ said the doctor, with a face of grave satisfaction. No one could have listened to the voice of the finest Italian opera-singer of the day with more relish and ardent attention than the doctor to the chanting of the convicts. The singing ceased. I stood at a little distance, with the brandy and the corkscrew, waiting to be told to draw the cork. ‘Whose was that deep voice?’ said Captain Barrett. ‘Barney Abram’s,’ answered the doctor. ‘Was it a Christian hymn they sang?’ asked Captain Barrett. ‘Certainly,’ responded the doctor. ‘Do you suppose that I would allow any other sort of hymn to be sung in this ship?’ ‘What’s Barney’s creed?’ said the subaltern. ‘He’s coming right,’ answered the doctor, severely. And then turning to Captain Sutherland, he exclaimed: ‘I know you take an interest in these matters. You will be gratified to learn that Abram expressed a wish yesterday to be received into our Church.’ ‘Indeed!’ said Captain Sutherland. ‘That could only be done by a bishop or a clergyman, I suppose?’ said the subaltern. The doctor, without answering, left the poop, walked to the main-hatch and addressed some words to the men at the bottom of it. ‘What’s your opinion of Barney’s conversion?’ said Captain Sutherland to Captain Barrett. ‘My opinion is,’ answered the other, ‘that I shall give instructions for the sentries to keep an extra sharp eye upon him.’ ‘Now the hymn’s over, suppose we get that cork drawn?’ said the subaltern.