hes," said Frere.

"If we are to stop here till evening, you had better let them go after
dinner."

"All right, sir," said Bates.

The afternoon passed off auspiciously. The ten prisoners went ashore and
washed their clothes. Their names were James Barker, James Lesly, John
Lyon, Benjamin Riley, William Cheshire, Henry Shiers, William Russen,
James Porter, John Fair, and John Rex. This last scoundrel had come on
board latest of all. He had behaved himself a little better recently,
and during the work attendant upon the departure of the Ladybird, had
been conspicuously useful. His intelligence and influence among his
fellow-prisoners combined to make him a somewhat important personage,
and Vickers had allowed him privileges from which he had been hitherto
debarred. Mr. Frere, however, who superintended the shipment of some
stores, seemed to be resolved to take advantage of Rex's evident
willingness to work. He never ceased to hurry and find fault with him.
He vowed that he was lazy, sulky, or impertinent. It was "Rex, come
here! Do this! Do that!" As the prisoners declared among themselves, it
was evident that Mr. Frere had a "down" on the "Dandy". The day before
the Ladybird sailed, Rex--rejoicing in the hope of speedy departure--had
suffered himself to reply to some more than usually galling remark and
Mr. Frere had complained to Vickers. "The fellow's too ready to get
away," said he. "Let him stop for the Osprey, it will be a lesson to
him." Vickers assented, and John Rex was informed that he was not to
sail with the first party. His comrades vowed that this order was an act
of tyranny; but he himself said nothing. He only redoubled his activity,
and--despite all his wish to the contrary--Frere was unable to find
fault. He even took credit to himself for "taming" the convict's spirit,
and pointed out Rex--silent and obedient--as a proof of the excellence
of severe measures. To the convicts, however, who knew John Rex better,
this silent activity was ominous. He returned with the rest, however, on
the evening of the 13th, in apparently cheerful mood. Indeed Mr. Frere,
who, wearied by the delay, had decided to take the whale-boat in which
the prisoners had returned, and catch a few fish before dinner, observed
him laughing with some of the others, and again congratulated himself.

The time wore on. Darkness was closing in, and Mr. Bates, walking the
deck, kept a look-out for the boat, with the intention of weighing