It was that he had been allowed to retain and stow in his waist-belt
his little packet of pepper-cress seed--a favour for which he thanked
his persecutors with tears in his eyes.
It happened that his galley was bound that afternoon on a cruise of a
few miles along the coast and indeed was lifting anchor as he was
hauled up the side. He had, therefore, but a hasty view of his
surroundings before he was chained to his bench, facing the great
oar. He saw only a long chamber, crossed by row upon row of white,
desperate faces. Down the middle, by the ends of the benches, ran a
gangway, along which three overseers paced leisurably, each with a
tall, flexible wand in his hand. The stench in the place was
overpowering, and Tristram was on the point of swooning when the
fellow who was chained beside him growled a word of advice:
"Look sharp and slip your jacket off."
Tristram obeyed without understanding. He saw that all the figures
around him were naked to the waist, and therefore pulled off shirt as
well as jacket, but not quickly enough to prevent a stroke, which
hissed down on his shoulders and made him set his teeth with anguish.
The man beside him uttered a sharp cry. He too had felt the cut, or
part of it; for the overseer's wand did not discriminate.
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