"Yes, Percival," said the boy, looking away; "it was a noble death—very noble—and your father must have been a noble man. What was it the spy did?"
"Got into my father's cabin, and tried to get at his private despatches."
"And where were they taking this man—the spy—when he jumped overboard?"
"To Gibraltar, where he was to be tried by court-martial."
"And after they'd tried him by court-martial?"
"If the court-martial had found him guilty, they would have shot him."
"Shot him?"
"Yes, they showed no quarter at that time, I believe, to one who stole, or tried to steal, State secrets."
"Oh, how horrible!" cried the boy, covering his face with his hands.
"Don't you think that a man like that deserves to die, Hibbert? Remember, it isn't only one life he places in peril, but hundreds—thousands. He betrays a country."