When two men had dropped from the masts, hurrying to get down because of his threat that the last man should be thrashed--when the two men lay smashed to pieces at his feet, Pigot said: 'Heave the lubbers overboard.' That night, Michael, the seamen rose, crept to his cabin, stabbed him to death, pitched his body overboard, put his lieutenants to sea in open boats, and then ran away to South America.

Well, I've escaped that fate, because this was a good ship, and all the officers knew their business, and did it without cruelty.

I've been well served.

It was a great thing making the new lieutenants from the midshipmen.

There never was a better lot on board a ship." Michael's face clouded.