“Indeed,” said I, turning away, for I did not wish the boy to perceive my emotion at this announcement. I recovered myself as soon as I could, and said to him, “Boy, I will keep my promise. Do you stay below, and I will go on deck and plead for your life.”
“Mayn’t I go on deck for a bit?” said he.
“What to wish your father good-bye? No, no, you had better spare yourself and him that painful meeting.”
“No, I don’t want to wish him good-bye,—I’ll wait till it’s over, only I never did see a man hanged, and I have a curiosity to have just a peep.”
“Out, you little monster,” cried I, running up on deck, for the information I had received was too important not to be immediately taken advantage of.
“Well, captain, has the boy saved his father’s life?”
“No,” replied I, in a loud voice.
“Then, up he goes,” said the men, for the halter had been round his neck and run out to the yard-arm for some time, and the men had manned the rope, only awaiting my return on deck. In a second, the captain of the Transcendant was swinging in the air, and certainly if ever a scoundrel merited his fate it was that man. Shortly afterwards I turned round, and there was the young hopeful looking at his father’s body swinging to and fro with the motion of the vessel.
I looked in vain for a tear in his eye; there was not a symptom of emotion. Seeing me look sternly at him, he hastened down below again.
“My lads,” said I to the men, who were all on deck, “I have received intelligence of that importance that I recommend that we should cut that vessel adrift, and make sail without a moment’s loss of time.”