endship was brought
about by two causes--one, that Mooney was the only man on the island who
knew more of the horrors of convictism than the leader of the Ring; the
other, that Mooney was blind, and, to a moody, sullen man, subject
to violent fits of passion and a constant suspicion of all his
fellow-creatures, a blind companion was more congenial than a sharp-eyed
one.

Mooney was one of the "First Fleeters". He had arrived in Sydney
fifty-seven years before, in the year 1789, and when he was transported
he was fourteen years old. He had been through the whole round of
servitude, had worked as a bondsman, had married, and been "up country",
had been again sentenced, and was a sort of dismal patriarch of Norfolk
Island, having been there at its former settlement. He had no friends.
His wife was long since dead, and he stated, without contradiction,
that his master, having taken a fancy to her, had despatched the
uncomplaisant husband to imprisonment. Such cases were not uncommon.

One of the many ways in which Rufus Dawes had obtained the affection
of the old blind man was a gift of such fragments of tobacco as he had
himself from time to time secured. Troke knew this; and on the evening
in question hit upon an excellent plan. Admitting himself noiselessly
into the boat-shed, where the gang slept, he crept close to the sleeping
Dawes, and counterfeiting Mooney's mumbling utterance asked for "some
tobacco". Rufus Dawes was but half awake, and on repeating his request,
Troke felt something put into his hand. He grasped Dawes's arm, and
struck a light. He had got his man this time. Dawes had conveyed to his
fancied friend a piece of tobacco almost as big as the top joint of his
little finger. One can understand the feelings of a man entrapped by
such base means. Rufus Dawes no sooner saw the hated face of Warder
Troke peering over his hammock, then he sprang out, and exerting to the
utmost his powerful muscles, knocked Mr. Troke fairly off his legs into
the arms of the in-coming constables. A desperate struggle took place,
at the end of which the convict, overpowered by numbers, was borne
senseless to the cells, gagged, and chained to the ring-bolt on the bare
flags. While in this condition he was savagely beaten by five or six
constables.

To this maimed and manacled rebel was the Commandant ushered by Troke
the next morning.

"Ha! ha! my man," said the Commandant. "Here you are again, you see. How
do you like this s