Page 107 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

vided into three parties—the desperate, the timid, and the
cautious. These three parties had arranged themselves in
natural sequence. The mutineers, headed by Gabbett, Vetch,
and the Moocher, were nearest to the door; the timid—boys,
old men, innocent poor wretches condemned on circum-
stantial evidence, or rustics condemned to be turned into
thieves for pulling a turnip—were at the farther end, hud-
dling together in alarm; and the prudent—that is to say, all
the rest, ready to fight or fly, advance or retreat, assist the
authorities or their companions, as the fortune of the day
might direct—occupied the middle space. The mutineers
proper numbered, perhaps, some thirty men, and of these
thirty only half a dozen knew what was really about to be
done.
The ship’s bell strikes the half-hour, and as the cries of
the three sentries passing the word to the quarter-deck die
away, Gabbett, who has been leaning with his back against
the door, nudges Jemmy Vetch.
‘Now, Jemmy,’ says he in a whisper, ‘tell ‘em!’
The whisper being heard by those nearest the giant, a si-
lence ensues, which gradually spreads like a ripple over the
surface of the crowd, reaching even the bunks at the fur-
ther end.
‘Gentlemen,’ says Mr. Vetch, politely sarcastic in his own
hangdog fashion, ‘myself and my friends here are going to
take the ship for you. Those who like to join us had better
speak at once, for in about half an hour they will not have
the opportunity.’
He pauses, and looks round with such an impertinent-

10 For the Term of His Natural Life