“The courtyard into which they were led was a gloomy one indeed, surrounded by high bare walls on three sides, with a cliff on the other going sheer down to the river’s side black and dismal.
“Le Comte Pedro de Dolosa lifted his hat.
“‘So sorry to trouble you, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘but the case is urgent. Who comes first?’
“He pointed to the executioners as he spoke. They were the same negroes who had led them to the yard.
“Brackenbury confessed afterwards that he now felt as pale as death. It did not tend to restore his equanimity to observe one hulking negro heating an iron to redness in a charcoal stove. This he knew was to cauterise the awful wound after the ear had been severed.
“‘Who comes first?’ repeated the count, sharply.
“‘Captain Brackenbury, of course,’ said O’Brady. ‘He has the honour to be captain of the ship.’
“‘No, no, no!’ cried Brackenbury; ‘you first, O’Brady; honour be hanged, you’re ten years older than I. Age before honour any day.’
“‘Gentlemen,’ said Dolosa, ‘as you cannot agree, I will solve the difficulty. Captain Brackenbury, stand forw—’
“He never finished the sentence.