“Death or the diamond?” he cried once more. “Death or the diamond—I care not which!”
From under the sheet that covered Antonio came the crack of a revolver.
Dungloo tossed up his arms with a gasping scream, and fell in a heap on the floor.
The trampling sound of footsteps was heard on deck a minute after, and down below rushed the second mate, and the first mate was awakened and joined him.
“Mates,” said Antonio, “I have shot that fellow Dungloo. He attempted to murder me with the dagger that lies by his side. He is a Thug, and was specially commissioned by priests in India to murder me, or get possession of a talismanic diamond that my brother took as booty while the town of L—— was being looted by our soldiers, after a victory during the terrible Indian Mutiny.”
“Get men to take him forward. Is he dead?”
“He is dead enough, bedad! and sarve him roight,” said Paddy. “Oh, sir, but it is you that has had the nasty shave!”
The body of the dead Thug was taken forward to the fo’cs’le head, and a tarpaulin thrown over it.
When the sun was glimmering red across the sea, tingeing the waves a deep blood-red, the body of the Thug was laid on a grating; and just as Paddy M‘Koy said the words, “May the Good Father have mercy on his soul,” the grating was tilted, and with a sullen plash the body sank beneath the waves.
And so ended this sad tragedy!