WILLIAM UNLASHED HIS hammock and slung it from the beam. The irons around his wrists were linked by a chain, and, from the chain, a chain went down to the chain that joined the irons at his ankles, and from his right leg a loose, heavy chain lay along the deck. He bent forward and balanced into his hammock, then, with his fettered hands, pulled the loose chain up to him.
“Why is it me as is double slanged?” said William.
“All on account of you’re a big, bastardly gullion,” said Renter.
“But Jeremiah doesn’t scour no darbies at all.”
“Ah, that’s all on account of the Gorger’s a swell, and full of binnacle words and no bear-garden jaw.”
“It is more that I would not mutiny, than that my station is preferred,” said Jeremiah.
“Binnacles!”
“What was you lagged for, then?” said Eggy Mo.
“I was an attorney at law,” said Jeremiah, “who had the misfortune to be unable to account for a banker’s draft to the sum of two hundred and nine pounds and seven shillings made out to my senior. I also suffered the misfortune to be found protecting his gold watch. For the which, I am to enjoy a southern clime throughout the next fourteen years.”
“And me, I’m served cramp words just for prigging a woolbird!” said Eggy Mo. “How comes you naps only fourteen penn’orth?”
“It must be that I shared your happiness in a more lenient judge at appeal,” said Jeremiah.
“Still, I naps a bellowser, not you,” said Eggy Mo.
“Life, or fourteen,” said Jeremiah: “who is to debate the outcome, whither we are bound?”
“Still,” said Eggy Mo, “I reckon two hundred odd quid and a ridge montra beats one old woolbird as was rig-welted.”
“I chases ’em. I flaps my apron at ’em. But they sees me coming. They sees my apron. But I’ll get ’em, one day.”
“I’ve slept in these slangs more nights than enough,” said William. “And they’re biting in, what’s more.”
“Piss on it,” said Renter. “I pisses on mine. It hardens ’em off; and they’ll not fester.”
“‘Rig-welted,’” said Jeremiah. “‘Rig-welted’. Mr Pye, what may this ‘rig-welted’ mean?”
“It’s when a sheep,” said Eggy Mo, “same as it’s on it back and can’t get up.”
“That’s rean-wawted,” said William.
“It’s rig-welted.”
“Rean-wawted.”
“It’s casted,” said Renter.
“Rean-wawted!”
“Rig-welted!”
“Casted.”
“Anyroad, it’s stuck,” said William.
“‘Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the Lord did there confound the language of all the earth.’” said Jeremiah. “Gentlemen, it would seem that your St Giles’s Greek has some purpose whereby you may commune without bloodletting amongst yourselves at least.”
“Casted.”
“Rig-welted.”
“Give over with your mither,” said William. “I can’t hear.”
He fingered the beam and put his ear to the wood.
“And why should you be a-grinning like a Cheshire cat?” said Renter.
“I’m going home,” said William. “It’s taking me. It says.”
Jeremiah laughed. “A palpable Argo! Yet I must own that it is bound for no Aeëtes’ realm, no Colchis, this; and no dusky Medea will proffer you a Golden Fleece, Mr Buckley. To have set an oracular plank from the oak of Dedonal Zeus, on such a ship, is indicative of folly, even in Athena.”
“Oh, you and your mollocking,” said William. “Talk like a Christian, can’t you?”
“He’s a rum duke,” said Renter.
William stroked the swaddledidaff against his cheek with the other hand.
“Cush, cush. Cush-a-cush.”
“Mr Buckley,” said Jeremiah, “are you quite well?”
“Ay. Grand as owt.”
“But you are not going home. This vessel is bound for New Holland, as you do know.”
“Or Van Demon’s Land,” said Renter.
“I’m going home; and that’s a fact.”
“Then how, pray?” said Jeremiah.
“Walk. I’ve been asking the Patlanders. They know.”
“Patlanders?” said Renter. “Ar, they would, wouldn’t they just? Nigmenog, every Jack-rag of them.”
“Eh! Pad!” William shouted.
“What?” answered a voice from the darkness.
“Come here!”
“What for?”
“Me mates don’t believe us!”
There was a thump onto the deck, and the chink of leg irons as someone shuffled forward.
“What is it you want?” said the man.
“Tell me mates here how we’re getting home.”
“On our hocks; how else?”
“Have you perused a globe?” said Jeremiah.
“And what’s that?” said Pad.
“Tell ’em,” said William.
“Well,” said Pad, “it’s good as caz. You go north from Port Jackson till you get to this river. The other side’s China, and you’ll find them that are there are blue.”
“They are. I’ve seen a picture,” said Willam. “There’s a bridge, and a feller with a boat.”
“China,” said Pad. “And then you turn left and straight home.”
“There’s trees,” said William. “Two are big uns. You can’t miss ’em.”
“How shall you know North?” said Jeremiah.
“I’ve a compass,” said Pad.
“But can you read it?” said Jeremiah.
“Read it? And didn’t I make it meself?” said Pad. And he hobbled back into the dark.
“And didn’t I tell you?” said Renter. “I’d not trust that one’s arse with a fart.”