“The boatswain turned pale, for he well knew the hint this was meant to convey, though his wife did not; and grasping Farmer by the arm, he exclaimed ‘No, you never can mean that!—Bill, we’ve sailed together and fought together;—did you ever know me shrink from the gale, or tremble at my gun? Here am I,—ready to live or die, just as your breath may turn the vane,—indeed I ax no mercy for myself,—’
“‘Is the yard-rope rove?’ inquired Farmer, trying to free himself from the other’s hold.
“‘Ay, ay,’ was the response from the fokstle.
“‘Then,’ continued Farmer, ‘Martin, say any prayers you know, for by every fiend in ——, you swing up there in ten minutes from this time.’
“‘Consider, Farmer,’ expostulated the boatswain, ‘we’ve been messmates and have shared each other’s dangers; you may take my life, but do not, do not disgrace me in my death;—nay, you cannot hang me like a dog!’
“Poor Fanny had remained silently clinging to her husband during this conversation, insensible to its true meaning; but when the last expression escaped the boatswain’s lips, the truth flashed upon her, and wildly shrieking, she fell at Farmer’s feet, embraced his knees, and in the most frantic and abject terms implored for her husband’s life.
“‘Force her away,’ commanded Farmer, in a voice of thunder to some of the seamen who had gathered round, ‘and, Martin, to your prayers; the sand is fast running through the glass,—to your prayers, man—to your prayers, I say,’ and the wretch laughed like a demon.
“‘Avast, avast, Bill,’ said the boatswain, ‘I am yet an officer, and don’t disgrace the cloth! Stand back, you lubberly son of a ——’ he exclaimed, throwing from him with herculean strength one of his own mates, who was attempting to put the noose over his head, and then addressing the people, he uttered in a clear voice, ‘Shipmates, I only ask to die like a man. If my death-warrant is sealed, what matters it to you whether I go out of the world by a musket-ball or in a sling.—Nay, shipmates, you cannot do it,—and in the presence of her, too,’—his voice faltered for a moment,—‘it would be a disgrace to a blue jacket for ever.—But,’ observing their unchanged countenances, ‘I see my appeal is vain, and I must bear it as a brave man ought. Farmer this will be a leak to sink your soul in that day when we come to pass our accounts. I know but little of prayers; I’ve served my country with faithfulness, and every action of my life is known to the Almighty. If I’ve done my duty to my king,—to my fellow creatures, and to she who now witnesses my murder, God already knows it, so it’s of no use overhauling them consarns now; and if I have not done it, then I take it five minutes will hardly mend the matter. Fanny,’ he continued, softening his voice, ‘you have been my friend, my companion, in fair weather and in foul; they will not, cannot injure you, girl; and when you go back to where I need not name, tell the old folks,’—here his voice again faltered and his lips quivered, which gave rise to an obscene jest from a bystander,—‘Be decent, fellow,’ he continued, ‘a brave man never insults his prisoner. My conscience is clear from having ever wilfully done wrong;—will yours be so when the last death-grapple comes?’
“‘Cease this d—— folly!’ exclaimed Farmer; ‘your time is nearly up, and by heaven—’
“‘Swear not by heaven, Bill,’ said the boatswain solemnly, ‘you have done with it, and it has done with you. Come, Fanny, one clasp to my heart before we are separated,’ and he threw his arms round his sinking wife, who seemed scarce conscious of her existence.