“Captain,” said the man, turning round to our captain, “you are going to make the innocent suffer for the guilty. I wanted to shield a shipmate; but he will be found out at last, I know, and I shall only suffer without doing any one any good, otherwise I could have borne the punishment willingly.”
I at the time thought that the man spoke in that whining tone which a person in spite of himself uses when he is uttering a falsehood, or saying what has been put into his mouth by another.
“Cast him loose,” said the captain; “I’ll inquire into this. Bring him aft here. Now tell me at once who is the man who has committed this theft, if you are not guilty of it.”
“I’d rather not say, sir,” replied the culprit. “I don’t like to peach on another. He’ll be found out before the day is over, and then I shan’t be accused of having told of him.”
“That excuse will not serve your turn, my man,” answered the captain sternly. “Unless you can point out the real culprit, you will have to suffer the punishment awarded you.”
“Oh no, sir, I’d rather not. Do not be hard on me. I don’t like to hurt another man, even to save myself,” again whined out the man. “Let me off, sir, let me off, and the real thief will be found—that he will; you have my word for it.”
“Trice him up again,” said the captain to the boatswain. “The true thief is about to be punished, I am very certain of that.”
“I’ll tell, sir, I’ll tell!” shrieked out the wretched man. “He’s one who has been skulking his duty ever since he came on board. I’d rather not speak his name.”
The captain shook his head, and made a sign to the boatswain to proceed.
“Well, if I must tell,” cried out the man, Saull Ley by name, “the thief is Will Weatherhelm.”