“It was no fault of mine,” replied the man; “I did all I could to prevent it.”
“It would have been more manly if you had remained with her on this rock, and left your cowardly associates to take their selfish course. But you are weak and irresolute, John Gough; too easily persuaded into evil, too slow to follow the impulses of good. The murder of that poor woman is as much your deed as if you had blown her brains out before you abandoned her. Indeed I do not know but what the latter would have been the less criminal.”
John Gough made no answer. I do not think, however, his mind was quite easy under this accusation, for he seemed restless, and kept playing with his pistols, with his eyes cast down.
“Your complicity in this mutiny, too, John Gough, is equally inexcusable,” continued Mr Evelyn. “It was your duty to have stood by Captain Manvers and his officers; by which you would have earned their eternal gratitude, and a handsome provision from the owners of the vessel.”
“It’s no use talking of these things now, Mr Evelyn,” said Gough, hurriedly. “I have taken my course. It is too late to turn back. Would to God,” he added, dashing his hand violently against his brow, “I had had nothing to do with it.”
“It is never too late, John Gough, to do good,” here cried out Mrs Reichardt, as she rose from her place of concealment, as much to my surprise as that of all who could observe her. But nothing could equal the astonishment of Gough when he first caught sight of her features—he sprang to his feet, leaving his pistols on the ground, and clasping his hands together, exclaimed, “Thank God, she is safe!”
“Yes,” she replied, approaching him and taking his hand kindly. “By an interposition of Providence you are saved from the guilt of one murder. In the name of that God who has so signally preserved you against yourself, I command you to abandon your present wicked designs.”
The man hesitated, but it seemed as if he could not take his gaze from her face, and it was evident that her presence exerted an extraordinary influence over him. In the mean time I had made my appearance on the scene, not less to the astonishment of the lookers-on; and my first act was to take possession of the pair of pistols that Gough had left on the ground; my next to hurry to the group of captives, who had been regarding us, in a state as it were of perfect bewilderment, and with my American knife to cut their bonds.
“I will do whatever you think proper,” said John Gough. “Believe me, I have been reluctantly led into this, and joined the mutiny knowing that I should have been murdered if I did not.”
“You must endeavour to make what amends are in your power,” continued Mrs Reichardt, “by assisting your officers in recovering possession of the ship.”