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1"Do you see him?" pursued my convict. "Do you see what a villain he is? Do you see those grovelling and wandering eyes?
2That's how he looked when we were tried together. He never looked at me." The other, always working and working his dry
3lips and turning his eyes restlessly about him far and near, did at last turn them for a moment on the speaker, with the
4words, "You are not much to look at," and with a half-taunting glance at the bound hands. At that point, my convict
5became so frantically exasperated, that he would have rushed upon him but for the interposition of the soldiers. "Didn't
6I tell you," said the other convict then, "that he would murder me, if he could?" And any one could see that he shook
7with fear, and that there broke out upon his lips curious white flakes, like thin snow. "Enough of this parley," said
8the sergeant. "Light those torches." As one of the soldiers, who carried a basket in lieu of a gun, went down on his
9knee to open it, my convict looked round him for the first time, and saw me. I had alighted from Joe's back on the brink
10of the ditch when we came up, and had not moved since. I looked at him eagerly when he looked at me, and slightly moved
11my hands and shook my head. I had been waiting for him to see me that I might try to assure him of my innocence. It was
12not at all expressed to me that he even comprehended my intention, for he gave me a look that I did not understand, and
13it all passed in a moment. But if he had looked at me for an hour or for a day, I could not have remembered his face
14ever afterwards, as having been more attentive. The soldier with the basket soon got a light, and lighted three or four
15torches, and took one himself and distributed the others. It had been almost dark before, but now it seemed quite dark,
16and soon afterwards very dark. Before we departed from that spot, four soldiers standing in a ring, fired twice into the
17air. Presently we saw other torches kindled at some distance behind us, and others on the marshes on the opposite bank
18of the river. "All right," said the sergeant. "March." We had not gone far when three cannon were fired ahead of us with
19a sound that seemed to burst something inside my ear. "You are expected on board," said the sergeant to my convict;
20"they know you are coming. Don't straggle, my man. Close up here." The two were kept apart, and each walked surrounded
21by a separate guard. I had hold of Joe's hand now, and Joe carried one of the torches. Mr. Wopsle had been for going
22back, but Joe was resolved to see it out, so we went on with the party. There was a reasonably good path now, mostly on
23the edge of the river, with a divergence here and there where a dike came, with a miniature windmill on it and a muddy
24sluice-gate. When I looked round, I could see the other lights coming in after us. The torches we carried dropped great
25blotches of fire upon the track, and I could see those, too, lying smoking and flaring. I could see nothing else but
26black darkness. Our lights warmed the air about us with their pitchy blaze, and the two prisoners seemed rather to like
27that, as they limped along in the midst of the muskets. We could not go fast, because of their lameness; and they were
28so spent, that two or three times we had to halt while they rested. After an hour or so of this travelling, we came to a
29rough wooden hut and a landing-place. There was a guard in the hut, and they challenged, and the sergeant answered.
30Then, we went into the hut, where there was a smell of tobacco and whitewash, and a bright fire, and a lamp, and a stand
31of muskets, and a drum, and a low wooden bedstead, like an overgrown mangle without the machinery, capable of holding
32about a dozen soldiers all at once. Three or four soldiers who lay upon it in their great-coats were not much interested
33in us, but just lifted their heads and took a sleepy stare, and then lay down again. The sergeant made some kind of
34report, and some entry in a book, and then the convict whom I call the other convict was drafted off with his guard, to
35go on board first. My convict never looked at me, except that once. While we stood in the hut, he stood before the fire
36looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up his feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully at them as if he
37pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly, he turned to the sergeant, and remarked,-- "I wish to say something
38respecting this escape. It may prevent some persons laying under suspicion alonger me." "You can say what you like,"
39returned the sergeant, standing coolly looking at him with his arms folded, "but you have no call to say it here. You'll
40have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear about it, before it's done with, you know." "I know, but this is
41another pint, a separate matter. A man can't starve; at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the willage over
42yonder,--where the church stands a'most out on the marshes." "You mean stole," said the sergeant. "And I'll tell you
43where from. From the blacksmith's." "Halloa!" said the sergeant, staring at Joe. "Halloa, Pip!" said Joe, staring at me.
44"It was some broken wittles--that's what it was--and a dram of liquor, and a pie." "Have you happened to miss such an
45article as a pie, blacksmith?" asked the sergeant, confidentially. "My wife did, at the very moment when you came in.
46Don't you know, Pip?" "So," said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and without the least glance at
47me,--"so you're the blacksmith, are you? Than I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie." "God knows you're welcome to it,--so
48far as it was ever mine," returned Joe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs. Joe. "We don't know what you have done, but we
49wouldn't have you starved to death for it, poor miserable fellow-creatur.--Would us, Pip?" The something that I had
50noticed before, clicked in the man's throat again, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and his guard were
51ready, so we followed him to the landing-place made of rough stakes and stones, and saw him put into the boat, which was
52rowed by a crew of convicts like himself. No one seemed surprised to see him, or interested in seeing him, or glad to
53see him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word, except that somebody in the boat growled as if to dogs, "Give way, you!"
54which was the signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the torches, we saw the black Hulk lying out a little way
55from the mud of the shore, like a wicked Noah's ark. Cribbed and barred and moored by massive rusty chains, the
56prison-ship seemed in my young eyes to be ironed like the prisoners. We saw the boat go alongside, and we saw him taken
57up the side and disappear. Then, the ends of the torches were flung hissing into the water, and went out, as if it were
58all over with him.
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