“Quite ready, sir, certainly,” replied Iffley calmly. “I add nothing and withhold nothing on the subject.”
Even I was startled by what Iffley said, and the way he said it. I could not help supposing that he believed what he said.
“Have you anything more to say in your defence, Weatherhelm?” said the captain.
“Nothing, sir, except that those men are mistaken. I can only hope that they believe what they say,” I answered, with a firmer voice than I had before been able to command.
“I am very sorry for it, and do not just now altogether believe it,” I heard Dr McCall observe as he walked off. “You will expect your punishment—six dozen,” said the captain. “Pipe down.”
Could a painter at that moment have observed Iffley’s countenance, it might have served him as a likeness of Satan when he is assured that Eve has fallen. The officers walked aft, the crew dispersed, and I was placed under charge of the master-at-arms.
Two days passed by. How full of agony and wretchedness they were! The pain I was to expect was as nothing compared to the disgrace and degradation. I who had always borne an unsullied name, whose character had always stood high both with my officers and messmates, to be now branded as a thief! How could I ever face those I loved, conscious of the marks of the foul lash on my back? There was no one on board to speak in my favour; no one who had known me before—and how incapable I was of the act imputed to me—except Iffley; and he, I felt too well assured, would do his utmost to destroy me.
The two days passed—no circumstance occurred, as I had hoped it might, to prove that I was innocent—when the boatswain’s call summoned all hands on deck to witness punishment. This time I was to be the victim.
The boatswain’s mates stood ready. One of them was Iffley. He played eagerly with his cat as I was led forward. “If come it must.” I ejaculated, “the Lord have mercy on me—I will bear my punishment as a man.”