“Now, mate, you’ll see Billy, won’t you?” said Paul. “It’ll do your heart good.”
Will smiled his assent. He was feeling no pain then. A boy was sent to summon Sam and the baby. Meantime the doctor came on deck.
“Let him lie here,” said he after a short examination; “his moments are numbered.”
Sam soon appeared. Paul took Billy from him, and, kneeling down, held the baby to the lips of the dying father. The men, no longer required to work the guns, clustered round the group. Will kissed his child and held him for a moment in his grasp.
“Shipmates,” said he, raising his voice, “you’ll all of you be kind to little True Blue—I know you will; there’s no use asking you. And God will look after him—I know He will, and forgive me my sins. Here, Paul, take the child—I’m slipping my cable, shipmates!”
He turned his eyes on the infant, and, pointing towards him, fell back into the arms of Abel Bush and Peter Ogle, who had come to have a last look at their old friend.
He was dead, and little True Blue was left an orphan.