CHAPTER X.
THE SILENT GUNNER.
Of course, Terrence Malone had played a practical joke on the Englishlieutenant, and while the latter was passing the night on the gloomiestisland of all the Maryland coast, the former was sweetly dreaming ofdear old Ireland, in the most comfortable bed the tavern afforded. Nextmorning the captain of the _Xenophon_ sent ashore for Lieutenant Matsonto come aboard, as they were about to hoist anchor. Terrence, Fernandoand Sukey were just going aboard the schooner as the messenger came.Fernando had passed the most miserable night of his existence, and now,pale and melancholy, went aboard the schooner utterly unconscious of thefact that some one was watching him through a glass from the big houseon the hill.
Terrence was as jolly as usual and had almost forgotten the lieutenant.Just as the schooner was about to sail, ensign Post came aboard andasked for Mr. Malone. Terrence was sitting aft the main cabin smoking acigar, when the ensign, approaching, asked:
"Where is Lieutenant Matson? I was told he went shooting with you lastevening."
"Sure he did. You will find him on Duck Island enjoying the sport I'veno doubt. Faith, I had almost forgotten to tell ye to touch at theisland and take him off, as ye sailed out of the harbor."
The ensign looked puzzled at this and said:
"This is strange,--this is certainly very extraordinary! Would he stayon the island all night?"
Terrence assured him that the lieutenant was a great sport and that thebest shooting was just before day. The Englishman returned to his boatand was rowed to the man-of-war to report, while the schooner weighedanchor and sailed out of the harbor. The _Xenophon_ followed two hourslater, having first sent a boat to Duck Island for the lieutenant, whoswore to shoot the Irishman at sight. There was no time for him to callon Morgianna and explain why he had not brought her the ducks, for soonafter his arrival the ship departed for Halifax, where the commander hadto give an account of his conduct at Baltimore.
Meanwhile, the schooner on which the three students had taken passagestood out to sea and started down the coast.
A strong breeze blowing from off land swept her out of sight of thecoast, when the wind suddenly shifted, until the skipper declared theyhad it right in their teeth, and, despite all the skill of master andcrew, the vessel continued to drift farther out to sea, while Sukey oncemore bewailed his fate at risking his life on the water.
"Don't count me in this game again," he groaned. "If I live to get onshore, I'll never risk myself on water broader than the Ohio."
With such headwinds, the schooner could not possibly reach Baltimorethat night. All night long she struggled first on one tack and then onthe other, and at dawn only the blue mist, seen like a fog in the West,marked the line of the Maryland coast.
"Don't be discouraged, lads," said the skipper cheerfully. "Come down tobreakfast, and afore night I'll have ye snug in port."
They went to breakfast, and when they returned found the master andthree seamen in the forecastle holding a very earnest conversation. Thefourth sailor was at the wheel. Fernando, glancing off to their larboardsaw a large ship, flying English colors, bearing down upon them, and hehad no doubt that this vessel was the subject of discussion.
She signalled to the schooner to heave to, and as they were within rangeof her powerful guns, the skipper was forced to obey. This vessel wasthe English frigate _Macedonian_ cruising along the American coast, andat this time short of hands. In a few moments, the frigate came near andhove to, while a boat with a dozen marines and an officer came alongsidethe schooner.
"What is your business?" asked the skipper.
"We are looking for deserters and Englishmen."
"Well, here are my crew," said the skipper pointing to his sailors."Every one I will swear is American born!"
"But who are these young men?"
"Three passengers I am taking to Baltimore."
The three students began to entertain some grave apprehensions. Terrencefor once was quiet. His dialect he knew would betray him, and when hewas asked where he lived and where he was from, he tried hard to concealhis brogue; but it was in vain.
Sukey came forward and tried to explain matters, but only made themworse. The result was that all three were in a short hour transported tothe _Macedonian_ in irons. Protest was useless; the _Macedonian_ wasshort of hands and they were forced to go.
They were not even permitted to write letters home. However, the skipperhad their names, and the whole affair was printed in the _BaltimoreSun_, and copies were sent to the parents of the young men.
Captain Snipes of the English frigate was one of those barbarous,tyrannical sea captains, more brute than human, and, in an age when thestrict discipline of the navy permitted tyranny to exist, he becamea monster.
The three recruits were added to his muster-roll and gradually initiatedinto the mysteries of sailor's life on a war vessel.
Poor Sukey for several days was fearfully seasick; but he recovered andwas assigned to his mess. Fortunately they were all three assigned tothe same mess. The common seamen of the _Macedonian_ were divided intothirty-seven messes, put down on the purser's book as Mess No. 1, MessNo. 2, Mess No. 3. The members of each mess clubbed their rations ofprovisions, and breakfasted, dined and supped together at allottedintervals between the guns on the main deck.
They found that living on board the _Macedonian_ was like living in amarket, where one dresses on the door-step and sleeps in the cellar.They could have no privacy, hardly a moment seclusion. In fact, it wasalmost a physical impossibility ever to be alone. The three impressedAmericans dined at a vast _table d'h?te_, slept in commons and madetheir toilet when and where they could. Their clothes were stowed in alarge canvas bag, painted black, which they could get out of the "rack"only once in twenty-four hours, and then during a time of utmostconfusion, among three hundred and fifty other sailors, each diving intohis bag, in the midst of the twilight of the berth-deck.
Terrence, in order to obviate in a measure this inconvenience, suggestedthat they divide their wardrobes between their hammocks and their bags,stowing their few frocks and trowsers in the former, so that they couldchange at night when the hammocks were piped down. They knew not whitherthey were bound, and they cared little about the object of the voyage.
"How are we to get out of this any way?" asked Sukey one day, when thethree were together for a moment.
"Lave it all to me!" said Terrence.
"I am perfectly willing to leave it all to you, Terrence. Do just as youwill, so you get me on shore."
Before they had been a month on the ship, they chased a Frenchmerchantman for twenty-four hours, and at times were near enough to firea few shots with their long bow-chaser; but a fresh breeze sprang up,quickly increased to a gale, and the Frenchman escaped.
This was the nearest approach to a naval engagement they experiencedduring their stay on the war frigate. They cruised along the coast ofIreland and Scotland, went to Spain, entered the waters of theMediterranean for a few weeks, and then returned to the Atlantic,sailing for the West Indies.
Not only were the officers of the _Macedonian_ brutal; but the crew wasmade up of a motley class of human beings of every class of viciousnessand brutality.
"Now boys, if ye want to kape out of trouble," said Terrence, "do'nt yeget into any fights with thim divils, or ye'll be brought up to thequarter-deck and flogged."
His advice was appreciated, and both Fernando and Sukey did their bestto avoid trouble with any of their quarrelsome neighbors. They submittedto insults innumerable; but at last Sukey was one morning assailed by abrutal sailor whom he knocked down. Two other sailors were guilty of asimilar offence, and all four were put under arrest. Fernando wasshocked and alarmed for his friend, and hastened to ascertain the factsconcerning the charge.
"I couldn't help it," declared Sukey, whom he found in irons. "Plaguetake him! he hit me twice before I knocked him down. I didn't want to bein the game."
The culprits could expect nothing but a flogging a
t the captain'spleasure. Toward evening of the next day, they were startled by thedread summons of the boatswain and his mates at the principalhatchway,--a summons that sent a shudder through every manly heart inthe frigate:
"_All hands witness punishment, ahoy_!"
The hoarseness of the cry, its unrelenting prolongation, it being caughtup at different points and sent to the lowest depths of the ship,produced a most dismal effect upon every heart not calloused by longfamiliarity with it. However much Fernando desired to absent himselffrom the scene that ensued, behold it he must; or, at least, stand nearit he must; for the regulations compelled the attendance of the entireship's company, from the captain himself to the smallest boy whostruck the bell.
At the summons, the crew crowded round the mainmast. Many, eager toobtain a good place, got on the booms to overlook the scene. Some werelaughing and chatting, others canvassing the case of the culprits. Somemaintaining sad, anxious countenance, or carrying a suppressedindignation in their eyes. A few purposely kept behind, to avoid lookingon. In short, among three or four hundred men, there was every possibleshade of character. All the officers, midshipmen included, stoodtogether in a group on the starboard side of the mainmast. The firstlieutenant was a little in advance, and the surgeon, whose special dutyit was to be present at such times, stood close at his side. Presentlythe captain came forward from his cabin and took his place in the centreof the group, with a small paper in his hand. That paper was the dailyreport of offenses, regularly laid upon his table every morningor evening.
"Master-at-arms, bring up the prisoners," he said. A few momentselapsed, during which the captain, now clothed in his most dreadfulattributes, fixed his eyes severely upon the crew, when suddenly a laneformed through the crowd of seamen, and the prisoners advanced--themaster-at-arms, rattan in hand, on one side, and an armed marine on theother,--and took up their stations at the mast.
"You, John, you, Richard, (Richard was Sukey) you Mark, you Antone,"said the captain, "were yesterday found fighting on the gun-deck. Haveyou any thing to say?"
Mark and Antone, two steady, middle-aged men, who had been admired fortheir sobriety, replied that they did not strike the first blow; theyhad submitted to much before they yielded to their passions; but as theyacknowledged that they had at last defended themselves their excuse wasoverruled. John--a brutal bully, who in fact was the real author of thedisturbance was about entering into a long harangue, when the captaincut him short, and made him confess, irrespective of circumstances, thathe had been in the fray. Poor Sukey, the youngest and handsomest of thefour, was pale and tremulous. He had already won the good will andesteem of many in the ship. That morning Fernando and Terrence had goneto his bag, taken out his best clothes and, obtaining the permission ofthe marine sentry at the "brig," had handed them to him, to be put onbefore he was summoned to the mast. This was done to propitiate CaptainSnipes, who liked to see a tidy sailor; but it was all in vain. To allthe young American's supplications, Captain Snipes turned a deaf ear.Sukey declared he had been struck twice before he had returned a blow.
"No matter," cried the captain, angrily, "you struck at last, instead ofreporting the case to an officer. I allow no man to fight on this shipbut myself. I do the fighting. Now, men," he added fixing his dark sterneye on them, "you all admit the charge; you know the penalty. Strip!Quartermaster, are the gratings rigged?"
The gratings were square frames of barred woodwork, sometimes placedover the hatches. One of these squares was now laid on the deck, closeto the ship's bulwarks, and while the remaining preparations were beingmade, the master-at-arms assisted the prisoners to remove their jacketsand shirts. This done, their shirts were loosely thrown over theirshoulders as a partial protection from the keen breeze, until their turnshould come.
At a sign from the captain, John, with a shameless leer, stepped forwardand stood passively on the grating, while the bareheaded oldquarter-master, with his gray hair streaming in the wind, bound his feetto the cross-bars and, stretching out his arms over his head, securedthem to the hammock netting above. He then retreated a little space,standing silent. Meanwhile, the boatswain stood solemnly on the otherside with a green bag in his hand. From this he took four instruments ofpunishment and gave one to each of his mates; for a fresh "cat," appliedby a fresh hand, was the ceremonious privilege accorded to everyman-of-war culprit. Through all that terrible scene, Fernando Stevensstood transfixed with horror, indignation and a thousand bitter,indescribable feelings. At another sign from the captain, themaster-at-arms, stepping up, removed the shirt from the prisoner. Atthis juncture, a wave broke against the ship's side and dashed the sprayover the man's exposed back; but, though the air was piercing cold, andthe water drenched him, John stood still without a shudder.
Captain Snipes lifted his finger, and the first boatswain's-mateadvanced, combing out the nine tails of his "cat" with his fingers, andthen, sweeping them round his neck, brought them with the whole force ofhis body upon the mark. Again, and again, and again; at every blow,higher and higher and higher rose the long purple bars on the prisoner'sback; but he only bowed his head and stood still. A whispered murmur ofapplause at their shipmate's nerve went round among the sailors. Onedozen blows were administered on his bare back, and then he was takendown and went among his messmates, swearing:
"It's nothing, after you get used to it."
Antone, who was a Portuguese, was next, and he howled and swore at everyblow, though he had never been known to blaspheme before. Mark, thethird, was in the first stage of consumption and coughed and cringedduring the flogging. At about the sixth blow he bowed his head andcried: "Oh! Jesus Christ!" but whether it was in blasphemy orsupplication no one could determine. He was taken with a fever a fewdays later and died before the cruise was over, as much perhaps ofmortification as from the inroads of the disease.
The, fourth was poor Sukey. When told to advance, he made one moreappeal to the captain, avowing that he was an American. The captain,with an oath, said that was the more reason for flogging him. Heappealed until the marine guard was ordered to prod him with hisbayonet. They had to actually drag Sukey to the gratings. Sukey's cheek,which was usually pale, was now whiter than a ghost. As he was beingsecured to the gratings, and the shudderings and creepings of hisdazzling white back were revealed, he turned his tear-stained face tothe captain and implored him to spare him the disgrace, which he feltfar more keenly than the pain.
"I would not forgive God Almighty!" cried the brutal captain. The fourthboatswain's mate, with a fresh cat-o-nine-tails swung it about his headand brought the terrible scourge hissing and crackling on the young andtender back. Fernando turned his face away and wept.
"_My God! oh! my God_!" shouted Sukey, and he writhed and leaped, untilhe displaced the gratings, scattering the nine-tails of the scourge allover his person. At the next blow, he howled, leaped and raged inunendurable agony.
"What the d---l are you stopping for?" cried the captain as theboatswain's-mate halted. "Lay on!" and the whole dozen were applied,though poor Sukey fainted at the tenth stroke.
Reader, this was on an English war vessel,--the vessel of a nationprofessing a high state of civilization. We blush to say it, it was nobetter on an American man-of-war, if nautical writers of high authorityare to be believed, and, even to-day, the brute often holds a commissionin the American army and navy. Although flogging is of the past,punishment equally severe is inflicted. The necessities of disciplineare taken advantage of by men without hearts. An American naval officerin Washington City told the author that it was a common thing forofficers on an American man-of-war to swing the hammock of the sailor ormiddy whom they disliked, where he would have all the damp and cold,ending in consumption and death. If this be true, it is far more brutalthan flogging. Congressional investigations are usually farces.Congressmen place their friends in the army and navy, and theirinvestigations usually result in the triumph of their friends.
For several days, Sukey was too ill to leave his hammock. "I don't wantt
o get well," the poor boy said. "I want to die. I never want to seehome or mother again after that."
"Faith, me lad, live but to kill the d---d captain," suggested Terrence.
"I would live a thousand years to do that."
There was a negro named Job on the vessel, who was a cook. He earlyformed a liking for the three. He stole the choicest dainties from theofficers' table for the sick youth.
"I ain't no Britisher," he declared. "Dar ain't no Angler Saxon bloodin dese veins, honey, an' I thank de good Lawd for dat. I know what itam to be flogged. Golly, dey flog dis chile twice already. Nex' time, Ispect dat sumfin' am a-gwine to happen."
"When and where were you impressed?" Fernando asked.
"I war wid Cap'n Parson on de _Dover_, den de _Sea Wing_ came, an' deleftenant swear dis chile am a Britisher, and he tuk me away. Den me an'Massa St. Mark, de gunner, were transferred to de _Macedonian_."
Sukey was sullen and melancholy. A few days after he was on duty, hebreathed a threat against Captain Snipes. A tall, fine-looking sailor,who was known as the chief gunner, said:
"Young man, keep your thoughts to yourself. For heaven's sake, don't letthe officers hear them!"
They were now in the vicinity of the West Indies and touched atBarbadoes. While lying here, Fernando witnessed another act of Britishcruelty. Tom Boseley, an American who had been impressed into theservice of Great Britain deserted, but was pursued and brought back. Hewas flogged and, on being released struck the captain, knocking himdown. For this act, he was tried by a "drumhead court martial" andsentenced to die. Tom had a wife and children in New York, but was notpermitted to write to them. Only one prayer was granted, and that wasthat he might be shot instead of hung, and thrown into the sea.
Fernando, almost at the risk of his own life, visited Boseley the nightbefore his execution. He seemed indifferent to his fate, declaring itpreferable to service on an English war ship. "I would rather die a freeman, than live a slave," he declared. Fernando asked if he would notrather live for his family.
"Oh! Stevens, say nothing about my family to-night!"
He then requested him to take possession of some letters he would try towrite and, if possible, send them. Fernando said he would do so, and hethen asked him to remain with him through the night. This Fernandodeclared was impossible. The young American was greatly weighed down bythe terrible mental strain the whole affair had produced, and he haddouble duty to screen the unfortunate Sukey.
"Won't you be with me when it is done?" Boseley asked. Money would nothave tempted him to witness that sight; but he could not refuse thedying request. He visited him early next morning and found him dressedin the best clothes his poor wardrobe could afford, a white shirt andblack cravat. He was a fine-looking man in features as well as stature.As Fernando gazed on him he thought, "_Dressed for eternity_!"
The doomed man gave him three letters, which Fernando secreted about hisperson and subsequently sent to their destination. Twelve marines weredrawn as executioners. Four muskets were loaded with balls and eightwith blank cartridges. Then the party went ashore. Boseley bore up welluntil the woods were reached, where he found an open grave. According topromise, Fernando went with him. Captain Snipes accompanied the sergeantof the marines to see that the prisoner was properly executed. He stillstung under the blow he had received, and Boseley was slain more togratify the vengeance of the captain than for any violated law. A numberof Boseley's shipmates were permitted to come and witness theterrible scene.
The captain said to Boseley:
"What is your distance?"
"Twelve steps."
"Step off your ground," added the captain.
"I cannot do it; you do it for me."
"I will do it with you."
The prisoner's hands were tied behind his back, and the captain, takinghis arm, walked him off twelve steps, as coolly as if they were onlypacing the quarter-deck. The captain then took a blanket, spread it onthe ground and told Boseley to kneel on it, and he did so, facing hisexecutioners. The ship's chaplain came and offered a prayer, after whichthe sergeant asked Boseley if he wished to have his eyes bandaged.
"No; I am not afraid to face my executioners," he answered. It was anintensely solemn occasion, and among all those hardy, rough-manneredsailors, there was not one, unless it was Captain Snipes, who was notdeeply affected. The captain's face was flushed, and his breath wasstrong with brandy, and he seemed but little moved.
"Go ahead, and have this done with," he said to the officer in charge ofthe affair.
"Are you quite ready now?" asked the sergeant.
"Yes," was the answer in a faltering tone.
"Make ready!" and the twelve glittering muskets were leveled at thissacrifice to the wrath of Captain Snipes.
"Take aim!" and the gunners steadied themselves for the fatal word, tosend a fellow being to eternity.
"Fire!" and instantly flashed a volley, reverberating a wild andunearthly death knell among the crags that looked down upon that awfulscene. In the clear morning air, the smoke of the guns curled up lazilyand hung like a funeral pall over the mangled, bleeding form. Fourbullets had pierced his body. He fell on his face and lay motionless fora few seconds. Then he began to slowly raise his head. Fernando camenear and stood in front of him. Ten thousand years could not efface thatscene from his mind. He continued to raise his head and body without astruggle. He looked the captain in the eye, and his mouth was in motionas though he were trying to speak,--to utter some dying accusation.Never did human eye behold a scene so pitiful as this dying man gazingon his destroyer, gasping to implore or to denounce him. In an instant adimness came over his eyes, and he fell dead.
"Oh, Heaven!" groaned Fernando, and he hurried away to the ship. Forweeks, he saw that awful face every time he closed his eyes to sleep.
Two years on board the British frigate had made Fernando, Sukey andTerrence tolerably fair sailors. Their hearts were never in the work,and they often dreamed of escape from this life of slavery. Fernando, byjudicious attention to business, had never yet won the positivedispleasure of the officers. One day the boatswain's mates repeated thecommands at the hatchways:
"All hands tack ship, ahoy!"
It was just eight bells, noon, and, springing from his jacket, which hehad spread between the guns for a bed on the main deck, Fernando ran upthe ladders, and, as usual, seized hold of the main-brace which fiftyhands were streaming along forward. When "maintopsail haul!" was giventhrough the trumpet, he pulled at this brace with such heartiness andgood will, that he flattered himself he would gain the approval of thegrim captain himself; but something happened to be in the way aloft,when the yards swung round, and a little confusion ensued. With anger onhis brow. Captain Snipes came forward to see what occasioned it. No oneto let go the weather-lift of the main-yard. The rope was cast off,however, by a hand, and, the yards, unobstructed, came round. When thelast rope was coiled away, the captain asked the first lieutenant who itmight be that was stationed at the weather (then the starboard)main-lift. With a vexed expression of countenance, the first lieutenantsent a midshipman for the station bill, when, upon glancing it over, thename of Fernando Stevens was found set down at the post in question. Atthe time, Fernando was on the gundeck below, and did not know of theseproceedings; but a moment after, he heard the boatswain's-mates bawlinghis name at all the hatchways and along all three decks. It was thefirst time he had ever heard it sent through the furthest recesses ofthe ship, and, well knowing what this generally betokened to otherseamen, his heart jumped to his throat, and he hurriedly asked Brown,the boatswain's-mate at the fore-hatchway, what was wanted of him.
"Captain wants ye at the mast," he answered. "Going to flog ye, Ifancy."
"What for?"
"My eyes! you've been chalking your face, hain't ye?"
"What am I wanted for?" he repeated.
But at that instant, his name was thundered forth by the otherboatswain's-mates, and Brown hurried him away, hinting that he wouldsoon find out what
the captain wanted. Fernando swallowed down his heartas he touched the spardeck, for a single instant balanced himself on hisbest centre, and then, wholly ignorant of what was going to be allegedagainst him, advanced to the dread tribunal of the frigate. The sight ofthe quarter-master rigging his gratings, the boatswain with hisdetestable green bag of scourges, the master-at-arms standing ready toassist some one to take off his shirt was not calculated to allay hisapprehensions. With another desperate effort to swallow his whole soul,he found himself face to face with Captain Snipes, whose flushed faceshowed his ill humor. At his side was the first lieutenant, who, asFernando came aft, eyed him with some degree of conscientious vexationat being compelled to make him the scapegoat of his own negligence.
"Why were you not at your station, sir?" asked the captain.
"What station do you mean, sir?" Fernando asked, forgetting theaccustomed formality of touching his hat, by way of salute, whilespeaking with so punctilious an officer as Captain Snipes. This littlefact did not escape the captain's attention.
"Your pretension to ignorance will not help you sir," the Captainretorted.
The first lieutenant now produced the station bill, and read the name ofFernando Stevens in connection with the starboard main-lift.
"Captain Snipes," said Fernando in a voice firm and terrible in itssincerity, "it is the first time I knew I was assigned to that post."
"How is this, Mr. Bacon?" the captain asked turning to the firstlieutenant with a fault-finding expression.
"It is impossible, sir, that this man should not know his station,"replied, the lieutenant.
"Captain Snipes, I will swear, I never knew it before this moment,"answered Fernando.
With an oath, the captain cried:
"Do you contradict my officer? I'll flog you, by--!"
Fernando had been on board the frigate for more than two years andremained unscourged. Though a slave in fact, he lived in hope of soonbeing a free man. Now, after making himself a hermit in some things,after enduring countless torments and insults without resentment, inorder to avoid the possibility of the scourge, here it was hanging overhim for a thing utterly unforeseen,--a crime of which he was whollyinnocent; but all that was naught. He saw that his case was hopeless;his solemn disclaimer was thrown in his teeth, and the boatswain's-matestood curling his fingers through the "cat." There are times when wildthoughts enter a man's heart, when he seems almost irresponsible for hisact and his deed. The captain stood on the weather side of the deck.Sideways on an unoccupied line with him, was the opening of thelee-gangway, where the side-ladders were suspended in port. Nothing buta slight bit of sinnate-stuff served to rail in this opening, which wascut down to a level with the captain's feet, showing the far sea beyond.Fernando stood a little to windward of him, and, though Captain Snipeswas a large, powerful man, it was quite certain that a sudden rushagainst him, along the slanting deck, would infallibly pitch himheadforemost into the ocean, though he who rushed must needs go overwith him. The young American's blood seemed clotting in his veins; hefelt icy cold at the tips of his fingers, and a dimness was before hiseyes; but through that dimness, the boatswain's-mate, scourge in hand,loomed like a giant, and Captain Snipes and the blue sea, seen throughthe opening at the gangway, showed with an awful vividness. He was neverable to analyze his heart, though it then stood still within him; butthe thing that swayed him to his purpose was not altogether the thoughtthat Captain Snipes was about to degrade him, and that he had taken anoath within his soul that he should not. No; he felt his manhood sobottomless within him, that no word, no blow, no scourge of CaptainSnipe's could cut deep enough for that. He but clung to an instinct inhim,--the instinct diffused through all animated nature, the same thatprompts the worm to turn under the heel. Locking souls with him, hemeant to drag Captain Snipes from this earthly tribunal of his, to thatof Jehovah, and let Him decide between them. No other way could heescape the scourge.
"To the gratings, sir!" cried Captain Snipes. "Do you hear?"
Fernando's eye measured the distance between him and the sea, and he wasgathering himself together for the fatal spring--
"Captain Snipes," said a voice advancing from the crowd. Every eyeturned to see who spoke. It was the remarkably handsome and gentlemanlygunner, Hugh St. Mark, who was scarcely ever known to break the silence,and all were amazed that he should do so now. "I know that man," saidSt. Mark, touching his cap, and speaking in a mild, firm, but extremelydeferential manner, "and I know that he would not be found absent fromhis station, if he knew where it was."
This speech was almost unprecedented. Never before had a marine dared tospeak to the captain of a frigate in behalf of a seaman at the mast; butthere was something unostentatiously forcible and commanding in St.Mark's manner. He had once saved the captain's life, when a Frenchboarder was about to slay him. Then the corporal, emboldened by St.Mark's audacity, put in a good word. Terrence, who had been promoted toa small office, poured forth a torrent of eloquence, and, almost beforehe knew it, Fernando was free. As he was going to his quarters, hisbrain in a whirl, he heard Job the cook say:
"He ain't no Britisher! Dar ain't no more Angler Saxon blood in hisveins dan in dis chile!"
An hour later, when he stood near a gun carriage, still dizzy from hisnarrow escape from the double crime of murder and suicide, St. Markpassed Fernando. He grasped the hand of the silent gunner, held it amoment in his own and whispered: "Thank you!"