Cravan returned in a few moments, and with a grin upon his face, reported that "it was the prisoner's wife, who wished to speak with the captain."
"Is she in her boat?" demanded Puffeigh.
"Yes, sir! I promised if she would get off the ladder and let her watermen pull clear away from the side, that I'd tell you what she wanted," replied the officer.
"Tell her if her watermen come near the ship I will have a cold shot thrown into their boat, and that all her whining won't save her man, who will shortly get what she has helped him to."
Upon hearing this, the crew uttered a yell of disgust, one fierce roar, and then all was silent; hardened as some of them were, this was too much for them. Puffeigh was almost mad with rage, and he screamed, "Open your mouths like that once again, and I'll order the marines to fire amongst you, you mutinous hounds," and the marines looked as if they would like to carry out such a humane command.
When the gallant Cravan had reported "that the woman was gone," and added, for the edification of the prisoner, "that when he last saw her she was lying all of a heap in the stern of the boat," the captain called to the boatswain, and said, "Mr. Shever, do your duty," upon which the ship's corporal removed the shirt from Clare's back, and retired a few paces to the right.
Tom heard all that passed about his wife, but he "ate his heart," and showed no sign of his terrible torture.
Shever took a cat-o'-nine-tails' from under his jacket, walked to the left side of the prisoner, grasped the handle firmly in his right, and separated the cords with the fingers of his left hand; then with a rapid swish raised the weapon high above his head, and brought the cruel lashes savagely across the naked back of the helpless victim.
"One!" calls the ship's corporal.
"Two!"