It was now plainly evident the vessel we were in company with was one of the English prison transports used for carrying convicts from England to the outlying colonies. The passengers aboard this one were to be transported for terms of years varying from five to that of an ordinary lifetime. They were, therefore, dangerous men, and had to be handled carefully. The armed guard of soldiers sent along to keep control were apparently numerous enough to handle them, but I knew well enough that a vessel of that kind should not have a fool for a commander. “Why is it, Mr. Gore,” Miss Waters said to me as I came aft, “that sailors are so brutal and rough?” “Are they?” I asked. “What do you think of the officers of that ship? Are they such as you would term gentlemen by any stretch of the imagination? I’ve read sea-tales, and all of them picture the American captains and mates as brutes. Don’t you think it is so?” And she smiled wickedly. “I think the man who writes or says all the American or English officers are brutes is a bit prejudiced,” I answered. “Whatever roughness they have in their natures, though, must certainly have gotten there while they were sailors before the mast. Take that Garnett, for instance. All the deviltry he knows--and he has learned something--he picked up while a sailor before the mast. I’m sorry, however, that you don’t care for sailors.” And I turned away. When I looked aft again, I saw Miss Waters had gone below and I deplored my temper and stupidity. Here I was trying, without doubt, to be civil and attentive to a young woman, and what a mess I made of it. I was a poor lover, though a strong one, and I reasoned that a weaker and less sensitive nature could give me long odds at the game. My solace was my pipe, and while I smoked I felt my spirits return, for the voyage would be a long one. We were only half-way and much might happen yet. All day the vessels were within hailing distance, and at noontime we saw the guard of six soldiers--there were a dozen or more on board--taking a gang of convicts out on the main-deck to give them air and exercise. As darkness came on, a squall of rain, accompanied by a light air, drifted the _Arrow_ a mile or more to the eastward. Then it fell calm again and the night was hot and sultry. I was very nervous that evening. Something oppressed me, and I chafed at the seeming indifference Miss Waters had shown that day for the passion I had been unable to conceal. On turning in I found it was impossible to sleep, and I lay awake in my bunk thinking thoughts concerning Brown that I afterward tried to forget. O’Toole’s step sounded loudly on the deck overhead, and the creaking of a brace sheave, when the slight swell made the ship roll, sounded loud and distinct.