“‘Oh, very well,’ he says, ‘you don’t want to be shot?’
“‘No, no!’ cries Mr Walters, crying now like a little child.
“‘Well, then, sir,’ says Jarette, ‘I’ll try and oblige you.’
“Mr Walters lay watching him with his eyes rolling, but they wouldn’t let him turn his head, while Jarette whispered something to some of the men, who went forward, and I saw them stoop down, but I didn’t know what they were doing there even when they came back, and at a word four of them seized him, taking hold of his ankles and wrists.
“‘What are you going to do?’ cried Mr Walters, who looked white, sir, as so much dough.
“‘What you wanted,’ says Jarette. ‘You didn’t want to be shot, so I thought I’d humour you, and have you pitched overboard.’
“Then Mr Walters begins to howl for mercy, but Jarette shakes his head.
“‘Off with him!’ he cried; and in spite of the poor fellow’s kicks and struggles, they trotted with him right forward and close up to the bows. Then I shut my eyes, for I thought it was all over, and I put my head a little farther out of the door-way here to listen for the splash. But there came a shriek and a loud slap down of a lid, and then I opened my eyes and saw the men all laughing, and found what they had done. For they had given the poor fellow a few swings to make him believe he was going over, and then all at once took a few steps and shot him down feet first into the cable-tier, shutting the lid over him directly after.”
“The cowardly brute, to torture any one like that!” I said to myself, as I went aft and into the saloon, stopping for a few moments by Walters’ prison, and feeling sorry for him till I passed my hand over my face.
That night passed quietly enough, and a soft breeze rose to send us gently through the water, Mr Brymer giving his instructions to the men at the wheel as to the course they were to steer, though I had not the least notion where we were bound for now.