he prison was not quite
so hot as at night, and many of the convicts made up for their lack of
rest by snatching a dog-sleep in the bared bunks. The four volunteer
oarsmen were allowed to "take it out."

As yet there had been no alarm of fever. The three seizures had excited
some comment, however, and had it not been for the counter-excitement of
the burning ship, it is possible that Pine's precaution would have
been thrown away. The "Old Hands"--who had been through the Passage
before--suspected, but said nothing, save among themselves. It was
likely that the weak and sickly would go first, and that there would be
more room for those remaining. The Old Hands were satisfied.

Three of these Old Hands were conversing together just behind the
partition of Dawes's bunk. As we have said, the berths were five feet
square, and each contained six men. No. 10, the berth occupied by Dawes,
was situated on the corner made by the joining of the starboard and
centre lines, and behind it was a slight recess, in which the scuttle
was fixed. His "mates" were at present but three in number, for John Rex
and the cockney tailor had been removed to the hospital. The three that
remained were now in deep conversation in the shelter of the recess. Of
these, the giant--who had the previous night asserted his authority
in the prison--seemed to be the chief. His name was Gabbett. He was
a returned convict, now on his way to undergo a second sentence
for burglary. The other two were a man named Sanders, known as the
"Moocher", and Jemmy Vetch, the Crow. They were talking in whispers, but
Rufus Dawes, lying with his head close to the partition, was enabled to
catch much of what they said.

At first the conversation turned on the catastrophe of the burning ship
and the likelihood of saving the crew. From this it grew to anecdote of
wreck and adventure, and at last Gabbett said something which made the
listener start from his indifferent efforts to slumber, into sudden
broad wakefulness.

It was the mention of his own name, coupled with that of the woman he
had met on the quarter-deck, that roused him.

"I saw her speaking to Dawes yesterday," said the giant, with an oath.
"We don't want no more than we've got. I ain't goin' to risk my neck for
Rex's woman's fancies, and so I'll tell her."

"It was something about the kid," says the Crow, in his elegant slang.
"I don't believe she ever saw him before. Besides, she's nuts on Jack,
and ain't l