And I got wondering, too, about what Mr Reardon would do, for he said he would see me again.

It was all very well then, but that night when I turned in I felt quite sick, and I couldn't sleep a wink.
The more I turned about in my hammock, the hotter and worser I got.
There it all was before me, I could see myself holding that pirate chap pinned down, and there was his eyes rolling and his teeth snapping as he twisted about.

Ugh! it was horrid, sir; and I felt as I was in for it, and began to understand what one has read about chaps as commits murder always being haunted like with thoughts of what they've done, and never being happy no more.

Then it got worse and worse, and I says to myself, `If it was as bad as that for just doing your duty, and saving your officer's life, what must it be when you kills a man out o' sheer wickedness to get his money ?'" The man stopped then, and looked round to see if any one was within hearing, but we were quite alone, and he went on quietly-- "You won't laugh at me, sir, will you ?" "Laugh ?" I cried wonderingly.

"It's too horrible to laugh about." "Yes, sir; but I meant, feel ready to chaff about it, and tell the other young gentlemen, and get thinking me soft." "Of course not, Morris." "No, sir, you ain't that sort.