‘He made sure of killing me; I saw it in his cold, deliberate way of covering me.’ He laughed harshly and mirthlessly. ‘He’ll trouble no other man’s peace. I’ve merely liberated the spirit of a devil that is now winging its way on black, bat-like wings back to that hell it came from. There will be disappointment amongst the fiends. That fellow there,’ nodding at the body over which Cutbill and Finn were bending, ‘was good at least for another twenty years of scoundrelism. What are they going to do with him?’
‘Carry him below.’
‘Finn!’ he called.
‘Sir!’ answered the skipper, looking up from the body, whose arms he grasped.
‘Hide it in some forward cabin, and if stone-dead, as Mr. Monson declares, get it stitched up. I’ll tell you when to bury him.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ answered Finn promptly, but looking shocked nevertheless.
My cousin handed me his pistol. As he did so his manner changed; a broken-hearted look—I do not know how else to describe the expression—entered his face. He drew a long, deep breath, like to the sigh of a sufferer from some exquisite throe, and said in a low voice, trembling with the tears which pressed close behind, ‘His death does not return to me what he has taken from me. With him go my honour, my peace of mind, the love that was my wife’s—all gone—all gone!’ he muttered. ‘My God!’ he almost shrieked, ‘how blank has the world become, now that he lies there.’
‘Be advised by me, Wilfrid,’ said I; ‘withdraw to your cabin and rest. This has been a terrible morning—enough to last out a lifetime has been crowded into it. You met him bravely, fairly, honourably. He has paid the penalty of his infamy, and though Heaven knows I would have gone to any lengths to avert this meeting, yet, since it has happened, I thank God your life is preserved and that you have come out of it unharmed.’
His eyes moistened and he took my hand; but just then Cutbill and Finn came staggering towards the companion hatch, bearing the body between them, on which he walked hastily to the rail and stood peering over into the water, supporting his temples in his hands.
Jacob Crimp had resumed his hold of the wheel. I went up to him. ‘I’ll keep the helm steady,’ said I, ‘whilst you wipe out those chalk marks on the deck. Meanwhile pick up that pistol yonder and bring me the case off the skylight.’