roughout the whole affair, the Rover had manifested
neither anger nor impatience. Deep and settled scorn, with a high reliance
on himself had, indeed, been exhibited in the proud curl of his lip, and
in the spelling of his form, but not, for an instant, did it seem that he
had suffered his ire to get the mastery of his reason. And, now that he
had recalled his crew to their duty, he appeared no more elated with his
success than he had been daunted by the storm which, a minute before, had
threatened the utter dissolution of his authority. Instead of pursuing his
further purpose in haste, he awaited the observance of the minutest form
which etiquette, as well as use, had rendered customary on such occasions.

The officers approached, and reported their several divisions in readiness
to engage, with exactly the same regularity as if an enemy had been in
sight. The topmen and sail-trimmers were enumerated, and found prepared;
shot-plugs and stoppers were handled: the magazine was even opened; the
arm chests emptied of their contents; and, in short, far more than the
ordinary preparations of an every day exercise was observed.

"Let the yards be slung; the sheets and halyards stoppered," he said to
the first lieutenant, who now displayed as intimate an acquaintance with
the military as he had hitherto discovered with the nautical part of his
profession; "Give the boarders their pikes and boarding-axes, sir; we will
now show these fellows that we dare to trust them with arms!"

These several orders were obeyed to the letter, and then succeeded that
deep and grave silence which renders a crew, at quarters, a sight so
imposing even to those who have witnessed it from their boyhood. In this
manner, the skilful leader of this band of desperate marauders knew how to
curb their violence with the fetters of discipline. When he believed their
minds brought within the proper limits, by the situation of restraint in
which he had placed them, where they well knew that a word, or even a
look, of offence would be met by an instant as well as an awful
punishment, he walked apart with Wilder, of whom he demanded an
explanation of what had passed.

Whatever might have been the natural tendency of our adventurer to mercy,
he had not been educated on the sea to look with lenity on the crime of
mutiny. Had his recent escape from the wreck of the Bristol trader been
already banished from his mind, the impressions of a whole life still
remained