every one of Tristram's companions had flung himself flat
on the bench. Tristram glanced again at the gun. Even at that
moment he had enough presence of mind to note that it was pointed
downwards, and at such an angle that those who lay flat must
infallibly receive all its contents. He noted this even while it
seemed that every one of his faculties was frozen up. He felt that
he could move neither hand nor foot; and somehow he knew that since,
because of the chain, he could not leave the bench, he must sit
upright. And so he stiffened his back, laid his hands on his lap,
and waited with his eyes on the gun.

Through the port-hole he could see the English gunner. He saw the
fuse in his hand. He counted the seconds; wondered, even, how the
fellow could be so deliberate. He heard the explosions all around,
and speculated. Would the next be his turn? Or the next? Would it
be painful? What was the next world like? And would his body be
badly mangled?

The gunner had the match ready, when the lad's lips moved and a cry
broke from them--a cry which astonished him as he uttered it, for he
had no notion that his brain was busy with such matters.

"O! my Father, have pity on my poor soul! I have loved all men and
one woman. Give comfort to her, and have mercy on my poor soul!"

As the last word dropped from his lips, a great calm fell upon him
and his eyes rested quietly on the gunner's hand as the man set the
lighted match to the touch-hole of the gun.

It was night when Tristram opened his eyes again. A pale ray of
moonlight slanted across his face. His head was pillowed on
something soft and warm. He lay for awhile and stared at the
moonlight; and by degrees he made out that it was pouring through a
rent in the galley's side. Then he turned his head and lifted
himself a little to see what it was on which his head rested. It was
the dead body of one of the three overseers, who had been killed
almost by the first shot fired by the frigate.

He pulled himself up and crept towards the bench; then put a hand
down to his feet. The ring was there, but no chain. Next he felt
along the bench with a wish--quite stupid--to get back to his seat.
His comrades were still lying on their faces. He imagined for a
moment that their foolish fears still held them there and he laughed
feebly. He was weak, but felt no pain from any wound, nor suspected
that he was hurt.

Then he began to eye the fellows roguishly