"Hazael, you have heard this letter. It proves you a liar and a traitor. Your villainy has cost us much trouble; there is no reprieve this time; you must be sent forthwith to another tribunal. Menath, Hokk, and Rhadamath must be your judges. You must die."
Flinging himself prostrate at my feet, the abject wretch broke out into the most piteous supplications; he implored for mercy, but I was inexorable. Two sailors raised him to his feet, and Himilco having made a running noose in his rope, slipped it round the Syrian's neck.
"Choose your own tree, my good man," said Himilco; "for my part I should recommend a sturdy holm."
Hazael made no reply, but struggled so violently that he had to be dragged forcibly along.
"Don't be a fool!" cried Gisgo. "What objection can you have to be hanged? it will save your shoe-leather."
"Now then," said Himilco, as soon as they had placed the eunuch under the tree, "haul away, tackle him up to the standing-rigging; there! his navigation has come to an end!"
And almost as he spoke, Hazael was dangling in the moonlight.
"One traitor gone to his last account," I said.