Page 62 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

Pine shook his grizzled head sorrowfully.
‘It’s this cursed calm that’s done it; though I expected it
all along, with the ship crammed as she is. When I was in
the Hecuba—‘
‘Who is it?’
Pine laughed a half-pitying, half-angry laugh.
‘A convict, of course. Who else should it be? They are
reeking like bullocks at Smithfield down there. A hundred
and eighty men penned into a place fifty feet long, with the
air like an oven—what could you expect?’
Poor Blunt stamped his foot.
‘It isn’t my fault,’ he cried. ‘The soldiers are berthed aft. If
the Government will overload these ships, I can’t help it.’
‘The Government! Ah! The Government! The Govern-
ment don’t sleep, sixty men a-side, in a cabin only six feet
high. The Government don’t get typhus fever in the tropics,
does it?’
‘No—but—‘
‘But what does the Government care, then?’
Blunt wiped his hot forehead.
‘Who was the first down?’
‘No. 97 berth; ten on the lower tier. John Rex he calls
himself.’
‘Are you sure it’s the fever?’
‘As sure as I can be yet. Head like a fire-ball, and tongue
like a strip of leather. Gad, don’t I know it?’ and Pine grinned
mournfully. ‘I’ve got him moved into the hospital. Hospital!
It is a hospital! As dark as a wolf’s mouth. I’ve seen dog ken-
nels I liked better.’

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