time, Paul returned on
deck. The captain was still exercising the men at furling sails. With
watch in hand he stood on the quarter-deck, his rage increasing as he
found that they could not or would not accomplish the work in the time
he desired. At length he shouted in a voice which made the blood run
cold in Paul's veins--

"The last men in off the yards shall get four dozen for their pains.
Remember that, ye scoundrels! Away aloft!"

Again the men ascended the rigging. The sails were furled. Two active
young topmen on the mizen-yard made an attempt to spring over the backs
of the rest. They missed their hold. With a fearful crash they fell
together on the deck.

"Throw the lubbers overboard!" exclaimed the captain, kicking
contemptuously their mangled remains.

These words were the signal of his own destruction. The men, regardless
of his threats, sprang below.

"Vengeance! vengeance!" was the cry.

The first-lieutenant who ventured among them was cut down, and while yet
breathing, hove overboard. Others who appeared met with the same fate.
The mutineers then rushed to the captain's cabin. He stood fiercely at
bay, but in vain. Bleeding from countless wounds, he was forced through
the stern port. His last words were, "Vengeance! vengeance! vengeance!"
Fearfully it was paid.

CHAPTER FOUR.

The deed of blood was not yet completed, although we would fain avoid
entering more minutely than is necessary into the horrible details of
the massacre which followed the death of the captain. It is a proof of
the evil passions which dwell within the bosoms of men, and shows how
those passions may be worked up by tyranny and injustice to make men
commit deeds at which, in their calmer moments, their minds would
revolt. Many of the victims struggled manfully for their lives. Among
the officers was a young midshipman. He was fighting bravely by the
side of one of the lieutenants, who was at length cut down.

"Will you swear not to utter a word of what you have seen done to-day?"
exclaimed Nol Hargraves, a quartermaster, who was one of the leaders of
the mutineers, if any could be called leaders, where all seemed suddenly
inspired by the same mad revengeful spirit. The brave boy, as he stood
leaning on his sword, looked undaunted at Hargraves and at those
standing round him.

"Swear--no!" he exclaimed. "If I live to see you brought to justice, as
you will be some day, I will say that you were cowar