‘Why not flog him?’ said Captain Barrett.
‘It may come to it, but I trust not.’
Meanwhile the prisoner in the box was bawling at the top of his voice and doubtless using horrid language. I observed that the wrinkled, grinning seaman watched the doctor, who, after a few minutes’ pause, lifted his hand as a signal, whereupon the sailor pulled the rope and tilted the bucket, and the water fell in a heavy splash upon the blaspheming youth boxed up inside.
Captain Barrett gave a great laugh. Indeed, a noise of laughter ran through the ship. A number of sailors, who had gathered together in sundry parts to witness the spectacle, seemed to find much to be pleased with in it. The prisoners within the inclosure grinned, without sound of merriment, and I thought that the rascally faces amongst them looked the rascallier for their smiles. The second sailor beside the box filled the hanging bucket afresh, and the wrinkled mariner continued to watch the doctor.
‘That’ll have extinguished the brimstone in him!’ exclaimed Captain Barrett, giving another great laugh. ‘Is the idea yours?’
‘No,’ answered the doctor. ‘I took the idea from a female convict ship which I went on board of at Sydney.’
By this time the half-drowned youth within had recovered his breath and was roaring out curses again. The doctor waited three minutes; then signed. The wrinkled sailor tilted the bucket, and the coffined wretch was soused for the second time. Once more Captain Barrett laughed loudly, and a rumble of laughter came from the seamen, who hung about in groups forward. I had imagined that two buckets would have done the fellow’s business for him, yet in five minutes he began to curse and swear once more, whereupon a third bucket was upset over his head. This proved effectual. No more noise proceeded from the inside of the box. The doctor, having waited some time, spoke to Captain Barrett, who crossed to the sentry at the quarter-deck barricade-gate and delivered certain instructions. Shortly afterward, Mr. Stiles came into the cuddy and ordered me to the pantry. I afterwards heard that the fellow in the box was silent whilst he stood in it, and that when he was let out and taken below he looked the most miserable, soaked, scowling, shame-faced, shivering wretch that was ever clothed in felon’s garb.