Chapter IX: Woman's Weapons
The two discoverers of this awkward secret held a council of war. Vickers was for at once calling the guard, and announcing to the prisoners that the plot—whatever it might be—had been discovered; but Pine, accustomed to convict ships, overruled this decision.
"You don't know these fellows as well as I do," said he. "In the first place
there may be no mutiny at all. The whole thing is, perhaps, some absurdity
of that fellow Dawes—and should we once put the notion of attacking us
into the prisoners' heads, there is no telling what they might do."
"But the man seemed certain," said the other. "He mentioned
my wife's maid, too!"
"Suppose he did?—and, begad, I dare say he's right—I never liked
the look of the girl. To tell them that we have found them out this time
won't prevent 'em trying it again. We don't know what their scheme is either. If it is a mutiny, half the ship's company may be in it. No, Captain Vickers, allow me, as surgeon-superintendent, to settle our course of action. You are aware that——"
"——That, by the King's Regulations, you are invested with full powers," interrupted Vickers, mindful of discipline in any extremity. "Of course, I merely suggested—and I know nothing about the girl, except that she brought a good character from her last mistress—a Mrs. Crofton I think the name was. We were glad to get anybody to make a voyage like this."
"Well," says Pine, "look here. Suppose we tell these scoundrels
that their design, whatever it may be, is known. Very good. They will profess absolute ignorance, and try again on the next opportunity, when, perhaps, we may not know anything about it. At all events, we are completely ignorant of the nature of the plot and the names of the ringleaders. Let us double the sentries, and quietly get the men under arms. Let Miss Sarah do what she pleases, and when the mutiny breaks out, we will nip it in the bud; clap all the villains we get in irons, and hand them over to the authorities in Hobart Town. I am not a cruel man, sir, but we have got a cargo of wild beasts aboard, and we must be careful."
"But surely, Mr. Pine, have you considered the probable loss of life? I—really—some more humane course perhaps? Prevention, you know——"
Pine turned round upon him with that grim practicality which was
a part of his nature. "Have you considered the safety of the ship, Captain Vickers? You know, or have heard of, the sort of things that take place in these mutinies. Have you considered what will befall those half-dozen women in the soldiers' berths? Have you thought of the fate of your own wife and child?"
Vickers shuddered.
"Have it your way, Mr. Pine; you know best perhaps. But don't risk
more lives than you can help."
"Be easy, sir," says old Pine; "I am acting for the best; upon my soul I am. You don't know what convicts are, or rather what the law has made 'em—yet——"
"Poor wretches!" says Vickers, who, like many martinets, was in reality
tender-hearted. "Kindness might do much for them. After all, they are our fellow-creatures."
"Yes," returned the other, "they are. But if you use that argument to them
when they have taken the vessel, it won't avail you much. Let me manage, sir; and for God's sake, say nothing to anybody. Our lives may hang upon a word."
Vickers promised, and kept his promise so far as to chat cheerily with Blunt
and Frere at dinner, only writing a brief note to his wife to tell her that, whatever she heard, she was not to stir from her cabin until he came to her; he knew that, with all his wife's folly, she would obey unhesitatingly, when he couched an order in such terms.