"Ahorcar! ahorcar!—to the yard-arm with el Senor Juez! Away with him, and aft with the line!" he exclaimed, in a hoarse voice, as the crew tallied on and ran aft with a derisive cheer, and, at the same moment, Mr. Basset was swung strangling off his feet, and run, with a violent jerk, to the arm of the foreyard to windward, where the unhappy man, hanging, in strong convulsions, and in all the agonies of death, presented a horrible spectacle to Morley Ashton, who had crept up the companion-stair and peeped out.
"Oh, Father of Mercy!" he exclaimed, and sank almost fainting on his knees, incapable for a few moments of action or speech.
After hanging thus for several minutes, the body of Mr. Basset was lowered with another jerk, brought on board by the down-haul attached to the ankles, and, amid loud yells of derisive laughter, it was flung into the cabin through the still open skylight, just as Morley, deathly pale, and trembling in every limb, tottered back to tell what he had seen on deck.
CHAPTER VII.
LUX VENIT AB ALTO.
Pity for Mr. Basset, and intense commiseration for his two daughters, soon gave place in the hearts of his friends to a dire longing for vengeance on the treacherous authors of this new atrocity.
"Secure the door, Morley—quick, or they may be on us!" cried Heriot, as he threw off his coat and rolled up his shirt-sleeves.
"There is no danger of their attacking us," replied Morley Ashton, panting and breathless.
"Why so?" asked Phillips, with an oath.
"Because these wretches are already busy with the brandy jar."