very jealous and
uneasy: he thought it odd that his wife was so anxious to leave the ship
when this tall fellow came on board; and what with the pouch and the
shirt he was puzzled. His wife had promised to come down to Greenwich
and see him off. When we anchored, some of the men went on shore--among
others the tall fellow. Sam, whose head was swelled up like a pumpkin,
told one of his shipmates to say to his wife that he could not come on
shore, and that she must come off to him. Well, it was about nine
o'clock, dark, and all the stars were twinkling, when Sam says to me,
`Tom, let's go on shore; my black eyes can't be seen in the dark.' As
we hauled up the boat, the second mate told Sam to take his harpoon-iron
on shore for him, to have the hole for the becket punched larger. Away
we went, and the first place, of course, that Sam went to, was the house
where he knew that his wife put up at, as before. He went upstairs to
her room, and I followed him. The door was not made fast, and in we
went. There was his little devil of a wife, fast asleep in the arms of
the tall fellow. Sam couldn't command his rage, and having the
harpoon-iron in his hand, he drove it right through the tall fellow's
body before I could prevent him. It was a dreadful sight: the man
groaned, and his head fell over the side of the bed. Sam's wife
screamed, and made Sam more wroth by throwing herself on the man's body,
and weeping over it. Sam would have pulled out the iron to run her
through with, but that was impossible. The noise brought up the people
of the house, and it was soon known that murder had been committed. The
constable came, Sam was thrown into prison, and I went on board and told
the whole story. Well, we were just about to heave up, for we had
shipped two more men in place of Sam, who was to be tried for his life,
and the poor fellow he had killed, when a lawyer chap came on board with
what they call a _suppeny_ for me; all I know is, that the lawyer
pressed me into his service, and I lost my voyage. I was taken on
shore, and well fed till the trial came on. Poor Sam was at the bar for
murder. The gentleman in his gown and wig began his yarn, stating that
how the late fellow, whose name was Will Errol, was with his own wife
when Sam harpooned him.

"`That's a lie!' cried Sam; `he was with my wife. False papers! Here
are mine;' and he pulled out his tin case, and handed them to the court.

"The judge said that th