cruel and mean in itself,
and awful in its consequences.

There is a sentence in the Comminations which would keep running in my
mind every time I thought of that emigrant ship sent to the bottom off
Dungeness--"Cursed is he who smiteth his enemy secretly." But if he who
smites his enemy secretly is accursed, what is he who smites his
neighbour and then flees away like a coward in the dark? Is he not twice
and thrice wicked, and to be branded with malediction deeper still? Such
a thing the _Murillo_ steamer did--there could be no manner of doubt
about it; every seafaring man and every Spaniard admits her
blood-guiltiness; yet there she lies off Puntales, near the Trocadero,
calmly expecting soon to be under weigh again with her criminal master
and crew on board, with no punishment registered against her or them.
The Consul-General of Spain in London wrote to the papers after the loss
of the _Northfleet_, saying if this man was the wrongdoer he would be
punished, and sent to Ceuta or Tetuan. But he is the wrongdoer, and he
will never be sent to Ceuta or Tetuan. The master of the _Murillo_ and
the sailors of the watch on the fatal night are in prison, but they will
never be brought to serious account. The figure of Justice in these
latitudes is true to the sculptor's ideal in one sense: the eyes are
bandaged, not that Justice shall be impartial, but that she may not
see.

This instance of the _Murillo_ is but one of many, and as it illustrates
an artifice of tricky ship-owning, it will be well to state why the
_Murillo_ will go scot-free, and may audaciously turn up again in
British waters disguised by a few coats of paint, exhibiting a fresh
figure-head, and bearing a new name in gilt lettering on her stern.

In the first place, the _Murillo_ belonged not to Spanish so much as
English owners. The line of steamers of which she was one was the
property of a company of shareholders. The company was anxious that
their vessels should fly the Spanish flag, so they made one Don Miguel
Styles the nominal head of the firm. This individual was a mere clerk in
their office, a man of straw, and at the date of the catastrophe Don
Miguel Styles had no more substantial existence than our old friend John
Styles: he was dead, and in his grave.

Nextly, Mr. Daniel Macpherson, one of the most eminent merchants in the
port of Cadiz and Lloyd's agent, had been served with an instrument
claiming damages to the amount of 50,000 pesetas (L2