He had often boasted that he had never been degraded at the gangway.

The day before his cheek had worn its usual red but now no ghost was whiter.

As he was being secured to the gratings, and the shudderings and creepings of his dazzlingly white back were revealed, he turned round his head imploringly; but his weeping entreaties and vows of contrition were of no avail.

"I would not forgive God Almighty!" cried the Captain.

The fourth boatswain's-mate advanced, and at the first blow, the boy, shouting "_My God! Oh! my God!_" writhed and leaped so as to displace the gratings, and scatter the nine tails of the scourge all over his person.