n deck. "Where is my
boy--what has happened to him?"

He stood for a few seconds leaning against the companion-hatch, while
his eye scanned the condition of the vessel, and he seemed instinctively
to comprehend what had happened.

"Where is Jim?" he repeated, in a hollow voice.

"I don't know, master," answered one of our men, whom he seemed to
address. "We only found you two below. If there was another of you, he
must have been washed overboard while you lay drunk in the cabin."

"Drunk!" he ejaculated; "then, my son, I've murdered you." As he
uttered these words he sprang to the side, and would have thrown himself
overboard, had not Thole, who just then came on deck, caught him by the
legs and dragged him forcibly back. The unhappy man struggled violently
in his endeavour to perpetrate his intention. "Jim, Jim, my son! you
gone--gone for ever; how can I go home and face your mother, my boy?" he
cried, his bosom heaving with the passion raging within. Then he turned
frantically to us, swearing oaths too frightful to repeat. "You've been
murdering him, some of you, you bloody-handed king's officers. I know
you of old. It's little you care for the life of a fellow-creature.
Where is he, I say? I left him on deck sound and well, as fine a lad as
ever stepped. How could he have gone overboard? He hadn't touched a
drop; he was as sober as any one of you; but I know how it was, you
chased him and he wouldn't give in--he stood at the helm like a man; so
you, you cowardly hounds, shot him down as if he were a brute. There's
his blood on the deck--the brave lad's blood, and you dabbling your feet
in it--you, his murderers,--and laughing at me, his father."

Thus the unhappy man went raving on, conjuring up, in his excited
imagination, scenes the most dreadful. Of course we heeded not his
raving abuse, for we pitied him most sincerely. There was now no doubt
that, while the father and his smuggling companion were drunk below, the
son had been knocked overboard. In vain had the voice of the poor lad
implored aid from those whose brutal intoxication prevented them even
from hearing his death-shriek ere he sunk for ever. It was with the
greatest difficulty we could hold the wretched man as we dragged him
below and lashed him into one of the standing bed-places. He there
still continued raving as before, now calling on his son to come to him,
and then accusing us of his murder. His cries and groans at last aw