It was customary on board these floating prisons to keep each man's crime
a secret from his fellows, so that if he chose, and the caprice
of his gaolers allowed him, he could lead a new life in his adopted home,
without being taunted with his former misdeeds. But, like other
excellent devices, the expedient was only a nominal one, and few out
of the doomed hundred and eighty were ignorant of the offence
which their companions had committed. The more guilty boasted
of their superiority in vice; the petty criminals swore that their guilt
was blacker than it appeared. Moreover, a deed so bloodthirsty
and a respite so unexpected, had invested the name of Rufus Dawes
with a grim distinction, which his superior mental abilities,
no less than his haughty temper and powerful frame, combined to support.
A young man of two-and-twenty owning to no friends, and existing
among them but by the fact of his criminality, he was respected
and admired. The vilest of all the vile horde penned between decks,
if they laughed at his "fine airs" behind his back, cringed
and submitted when they met him face to face--for in a convict ship
the greatest villain is the greatest hero, and the only nobility
acknowledged by that hideous commonwealth is that Order of the Halter
which is conferred by the hand of the hangman.

The young man on the poop caught sight of the tall figure
leaning against the bulwarks, and it gave him an excuse to break
the monotony of his employment.

"Here, you!" he called with an oath, "get out of the gangway!
"Rufus Dawes was not in the gangway--was, in fact, a good two feet from it,
but at the sound of Lieutenant Frere's voice he started,
and went obediently towards the hatchway.