Mr. Bates came along the deck and entered the cabin-door; I put my finger to my lips, and he halted close behind Tom, who seemed not to have heard him come. In this manner three or four minutes passed, neither Bates nor I speaking, and Tom appearing to read. My sweetheart then fetched a deep breath, and, looking round to me without seeing Bates, he said: ‘That such a man should have had it in his power to injure me so!’ I saw a mist in his eyes, and his breathing was laboured; then perceiving Bates he grasped him by both hands. ‘Dear friend,’ he cried, ‘it is a ruined, broken-hearted convict sailor who thanks you!’ ‘No more of that, Butler, for my sake,’ answered the mate. ‘You are no convict, and your heart’s not broken. All’s well with us now, and I’ll be dancing at your wedding very soon.’ ‘I was innocent! I was always innocent! I told you so!’ cried Tom. ‘Did I ever doubt it, Butler?’ exclaimed the mate. ‘And this lady’s marvellous devotion! Match me such perfect faith, such beautiful loyalty.’ Tom stretched out his arms, and in a moment I was locked to his heart. CHAPTER XLV SHE CONCLUDES HER STORY Presently the mate told us of the trouble Nodder had cost him; how at one moment the sulky villain bade him fetch paper and pen, for that he meant to confess; how, as Bates sprang to the hatch, the fellow rasped out that he had changed his mind--bruised if he was going to confess. Butler had never offered him an extra glass of grog all the time they were together; it was for Rotch to own up, not him. First let him hear what Rotch had to say. This went on till Bates, losing his temper, told him he had as good as confessed already; if he refused to dictate the confession civilly asked of him, he (that is, Bates) would quit the forecastle, clap the hatch on, leave him to crawl about in the dark, stop his supply of rum, and in every way abandon him to a dreadful and miserable fate. ‘You’ve no friend on board but myself,’ Bates told him. ‘But for me you’d get nothing to eat or drink. If Rotch confesses first, he’ll put in a claim as Queen’s evidence, the whole burden of this enormous crime will be laid upon your shoulders, and whilst I’ll take my oath that the punishment for it is nothing less than the hulks and transportation for life, I’ll not swear, as I’m no lawyer, that it isn’t a hanging offence. Then I bade him think of Rotch’s promise of fifty pounds, and of the horrible mess that villain had got him into, and by degrees so worked upon him as to bring up his meanderings at last with a round turn. “Jaw me no more!” growled the beggar. “Go and fetch the smotherin’ writing-gear!” And there it is,’ said the mate, with a smile, pointing to the table.