‘Mr. Bates,’ continued Tom, ‘knows where everything is stowed in this ship. He’ll sample your food for you and name you your water allowance. Use him kindly, men. He’s of first-rate consequence to us.’ When this was said, Barney Abram crossed to the mate, brought him to the middle of the break of the poop, near to where Tom stood, and there, in the sight of all the convicts, shook him by the hand. This was done in silence, but it was a very expressive performance--some might hold after the Eastern manner, seeing who was the main actor. Tom went on: ‘I must have the captain’s cabin; the navigating instruments of the vessel are there and certain conveniences of furniture. The chief mate will also need his cabin; he’ll share it with that young gentleman,’ said he, pointing to Will. ‘If any of you in the hurry of this morning has mistaken Mr. Bates’s effects for Captain Barrett’s or the other officers’ or the commander’s, I’ll beg him to return them. He is our friend, and Mr. Abram wishes him to be well used. It is not right he should be thus dressed.’ ‘Look at yourself?’ cried a voice on the quarter-deck. ‘Yes, but I’m a convict!’ exclaimed Tom, savagely. This raised a roar; a hundred men seemed to speak at once; they yelled out to this effect--that there were no longer any convicts aboard that ship, that they were all free men, that they had got their liberty and meant to keep it, and so forth. ‘Order!’ bawled Abram, raising his arms above his head. ‘We’re here to discuss batters quietly. The capt’id’s talked very sensibly, ad I’b with hib up to the hilt as far as he’s gord. Are those your sedibents?’ said he, looking round at the little crowd of convicts who stood near. ‘There must be discipline,’ answered one of them, ‘and Butler’s talked very good sense so far.’ ‘How about the stock of spirits?’ exclaimed a tall, thin, pale, grey-haired convict, dressed in an officer’s shell-jacket too short for him--so that when I think of him now it is always somehow in connection with Mr. Dickens’s incomparable figure of Smike. ‘’Sponsible men are wanted to see to that.’ ‘You’re right, Williams,’ said Tom, giving him an emphatic nod. ‘Every cask of spirits,’ continued the man, speaking somewhat nasally and amidst a silence that might have rendered his voice audible as far as the forecastle, ‘is full of little devils swimming about. And every little devil, when he’s swallowed, carries seven other little devils, all a-clinging to one another’s tails, down into a man’s inside. Call it eight devils,’ said he, raising his voice. ‘One for each eye, is two; one for each ear, is four; one for the tongue’s, five; and there’s three over to keep the others goin’ it. ’Sponsible men, Abram, if that there sea is not to shut up this pleasing dream of liberty.’