"Clumsy blockhead! land-lubber!" cried Mr. Mathew, by way of consolation. "What did you come to do on board the Dolphin! Ah! you entered as an able seaman, and you cannot even distinguish the main from the foremast! I shall have a little talk with you."
Crockston made no attempt to speak; he bent his back like a man resigned to anything he might have to bear; just then the boatswain returned.
"This," said he to the first officer, "is all that I have found; a suspicious portfolio with letters."
"Give them here," said Mr. Mathew. "Letters with Federal stamps! Mr. Halliburtt, of Boston! An Abolitionist! a Federalist! Wretch! you are nothing but a traitor, and have sneaked on board to betray us! Never mind, you will be paid for your trouble with the cat-o'-nine-tails! Boatswain, call the Captain, and you others just keep an eye on that rogue there."
Crockston received these compliments with a hideous grimace, but he did not open his lips. They had fastened him to the capstan, and he could move neither hand nor foot.
A few minutes later James Playfair came out of his cabin and went to the forecastle, where Mr. Mathew immediately acquainted him with the details of the case.
"What have you to say?" asked James Playfair, scarcely able to restrain his anger.
"Nothing," replied Crockston.
"And what did you come on board my ship for?"
"Nothing."