A warrant had been made out and duly signed by Puffeigh, and when Divine Service was concluded, the marines and sailors were mustered upon the quarter-deck, and the commander read the warrant which stated, "That whereas, Sergeant John Spine, Royal Marine Light Infantry, had upon sundry and divers occasions sold illicitly, disposed of, or induced others—to wit, the seamen and boys belonging to H.M.S. Stinger—to purchase sundry articles, to wit, sardines, pickles, and blacking at more than four times their value, and the said sergeant having pleaded guilty to the offence, as a punishment his good-conduct stripes were taken from him."
When the warrant was read Spine drew himself up (one) saluted (two), stood at attention (three), and then addressed his commander.
"Captain Puffeigh, twenty years, as boy and man, have I served my country, and I have always endeavoured to do my duty. You have directed my good-conduct stripes" (here he spoke with emotion) "to be cut off, and I am ranked with felons—yes, Captain Puffeigh, with felons."
"Don't talk rubbish, sergeant!"
"I am a non-commissioned officer in the Royal Marine Light Infantry, and know full well what discipline means, sir, but I respectfully protest against this punishment, and demand to be tried by court-martial."
"Is that all, sergeant?" sneered Crushe.
"I wasn't addressing you, Lieutenant Crushe. Sir, Captain Puffeigh, will you have me tried by court-martial or not? Sir, will you do me that act of justice?"
"No, sergeant."
"You won't, sir?"
"No, sergeant, and be hanged to you, you precious old peddler! Considering the way you have robbed the men, I let you off very cheaply; I ought to disrate you to corporal."