Just then Tom came along the poop. He sprang on to the hencoop and placed some parcels in the boat, joined us and said: ‘I’ve secured the chronometer, a sextant, some charts and a tinder-box. All’s quiet now in the cuddy. What a terrible scene! I was obliged to tread upon the bodies of men to look into the cabins. Many lie capsized upon their backs, their legs upon the seats. The light’s bad, yet I made out Abram on the deck of a berth. There’s a whole hundred and thirty people below in that cuddy! Would any man credit the story of such a wholesale drugging and damning by drink? They lie thick under the break there, and the main-deck’s strewn with them. The forecastle’s empty. But all’s not quiet yet in the ship,’ said he, speaking very quickly and softly. ‘A fellow under the bulwarks yonder sat up and called me by name. I took no notice. Two or three men just now staggered off the gratings on the main-hatch to seek more comfortable resting-places. We must wait awhile.’ ‘Shall Johnstone and I get the boat provisioned?’ said Mr. Bates. ‘Aye, do your best, Bates, and promptly. Provision us as though we were to be a fortnight afloat.’ He strained his eyes in the direction of the brig. My cousin and the other left the poop. The time slipped by. I stepped to the skylight and found the hour ten minutes to one. Bates and Will came and went and came again, and at every trip they brought a load. I believe they found ship’s bread in the forecastle and some raw hams and drum-big tins of boiled meat in the galley. I asked no questions, however. The time of our departure was drawing near and I was frightened and nervous. I never could tell at what moment some of the convicts might get the better of their stupor and come upon the poop for the whiteness of the planks and for the airiness of the lodging it offered. I could not persuade myself that so vast a number of persons should be as drugged and lifeless as though a strong dose of laudanum had gone to every dram. Yet, whether I credited it or not, I had but to use my eyes to witness the truth. I had but to descend the cabin steps, I had but to walk around the quarter- and main-decks of that now silent shadowy convict ship, to know there was scarce a man but was stone-senseless with rum. Sometimes a beastlike cry broke from below, sometimes a drunken shout sounded forward. These noises were startling, but we speedily found they signified nothing. Tom went to the head of the starboard poop-ladder and looked and listened. He returned, descended the companion-steps, and, after looking and listening, put out all the lights. It was then about a quarter past two. The moon had made a deal of westing, and was red and shone no longer very brightly. ‘Johnstone,’ said my sweetheart, in a whisper, ‘have you a knife?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Cut the gig’s and yonder boat’s falls short off just under where they are belayed. Quick, my lad! Bates, it must be done.’