“Do I understand as everybody thinks hangin’ too severe?” inquired Rogers, glancing slowly round the table. “I do,”—as no hands were shown. “Well then, let’s try something else. Perhaps, shipmates, some of yer’s got a hidee as you’d like to put afore the court? If so, let’s hear what it is.”
“I thinks as it would be no more nor he desarves if we was to treat him for the rest of the v’yage as he’ve treated us from the beginnin’ of it. He’d know then what it’s like, and if he lives long enough to get the command of another ship, maybe he’ll then know better how to treat his crew,” observed one of the men.
“Not at all a bad idee,” commented Rogers. “You’ve heard what Phil says; what d’ye think on’t?”
“I thinks it’s a capical notion,” remarked one.
“I’m agreeable,” intimated another.
“Ay; let’s see how he likes that sort of thing hisself,” remarked a third.
And so on; all hands intimating their concurrence in the suggestion.
“Wery good,” remarked Rogers, when all had spoken. Then, turning to the captain, he said—
“Robert Arnold, the sentence of this here court is that you’m to be turned for’ard and conwerted into a ‘hordinary seaman,’ to do a hordinary seaman’s dooties, and to receive just exactly the same treatment as you’ve sarved out to the hands since this here ship sailed from Hold England, namely, more kicks than ha’pence. And the Lord have mercy on yer miserable carcase!”
He paused for a moment on concluding this—in his opinion—impressive address, and then ordered that Arnold should be removed to the forecastle, and the chief mate brought forward.