"'Yes, sir,' I said, and went aloft, boiling over with humiliation and rage. Of what use was life, I thought, and success at sea if it was to be bought at such a price in manhood and self-respect? The more I thought of it the stronger grew my resolve to end it in some way.
"It was the man at the wheel who showed me the way. He was a hot-tempered Irishman, a good seaman; but an indifferent helmsman. He had put the ship off a couple of points at the skipper's order, so as to pass under the stern of the ship ahead, and had some trouble in steadying to the new course. He came in for a round of abuse from the three, and at last was relieved, while the skipper gave him instructions similar to mine. He was to take the lee maintopsail yard, call out the bells when struck on deck, and conclude with the cock-crow and blessing on his lords and masters. I heard his furious curses as he reached the yard and slid out to leeward.
"We passed under the stern of the other ship, and I judged by her rig that she was beating her way west, possibly to New York or Boston. As she dropped out of sight astern, eight bells struck on deck. The lookout on the forecastle called out, 'Eight bells, t'gallant fo'cas'le! All's well!' in the peculiar singsong they have in that trade. I repeated my call from the weather yard arm; but I left out the crow and the prayer for blessings. The skipper and mates were looking up at me, and I saw that the first was about to sing out something; but Casey over to leeward interrupted.
"'Eight bells!' he called. 'See maintopsail yard arm. All's well, an' blankety blank yer black hearts and cowardly sools to damnation, Captain Black, Mister Macklin, an' Mister Parker!'
"'What's that—what?' stuttered the skipper. 'Weather yard arm there! What do you say?'
"'Go to hell!' I answered furiously.
"The skipper was near his cabin window, and I saw him reach within. Casey, over to leeward, filled the night with his imprecations. He called down, not blessings, but the tortures of the damned on his tormentors, and attracted the skipper's attention from me. When he stood up he held a short-barreled rifle, and with this he took careful aim at Casey. Then there was a spat of flame, a report, a puff of smoke floating over the house, and Casey, an oath stopped on his lips, sprawled downward into the sea.
"The watch had been called, and appeared in time to see this. I heard the explosive but muttered comments, and then a concerted snarl of hatred and rage as they rushed aft. But I paid no present attention to it. I had drawn my pistol, and was taking careful aim with my left hand at the captain, not so much determined by fear that I should be next as by a resolve, born of my emotions before the shooting, to bring things to an end.
"The skipper looked up at me and got the bullet, fairly in the face, I think, but I never was sure just where I hit him. He dropped, however, and lay still, while the two mates made a dive for the forward companion.
"Macklin got in; but not so Parker. The enraged men caught him just outside the door, slammed in his face by Macklin, and I had one glimpse of him as I scrambled in along the footrope. He was in the center of a circle of flourishing sheath knives, his voice of command nearly silenced by the vengeful shouts and oaths of the men, and when I looked again, as I dropped into the rigging, he was prone on his back, while the men were surging aft to enter the cabin by the after companion. But Macklin was ahead of them, and had bolted it as he had the other.