Page 108 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

ly confident air, that three waverers in the party amidships
slip nearer to hear him.
‘You needn’t be afraid,’ Mr. Vetch continues, ‘we have ar-
ranged it all for you. There are friends waiting for us outside,
and the door will be open directly. All we want, gentlemen,
is your vote and interest—I mean your—‘
‘Gaffing agin!’ interrupts the giant angrily. ‘Come to
business, carn’t yer? Tell ‘em they may like it or lump it, but
we mean to have the ship, and them as refuses to join us we
mean to chuck overboard. That’s about the plain English
of it!’
This practical way of putting it produces a sensation, and
the conservative party at the other end look in each other’s
faces with some alarm. A grim murmur runs round, and
somebody near Mr. Gabbett laughs a laugh of mingled fe-
rocity and amusement, not reassuring to timid people.
‘What about the sogers?’ asked a voice from the ranks of
the cautious.
‘D—- the sogers!’ cries the Moocher, moved by a sudden
inspiration. ‘They can but shoot yer, and that’s as good as
dyin’ of typhus anyway!’
The right chord had been struck now, and with a stifled
roar the prison admitted the truth of the sentiment. ‘Go on,
old man!’ cries Jemmy Vetch to the giant, rubbing his thin
hands with eldritch glee. ‘They’re all right!’ And then, his
quick ears catching the jingle of arms, he said, ‘Stand by
now for the door—one rush’ll do it.’
It was eight o’clock and the relief guard was coming from
the after deck. The crowd of prisoners round the door held

10