the man's necktie and bound
it round his head; then, using a little piece of wood as a lever, he
passed it through the tie and twisted it until the two sides of the
gaping gash were brought together, which operation stopped the bleeding
at once. This done he hastily left him; but it will interest the reader
to know that this Singapore man actually recovered from his terrible
wound after a month of hospital treatment. He was afterwards taken over
to Singapore as a natural curiosity, and exhibited there to several
doctors who had refused to believe the story. For aught we know to the
contrary, the man may be alive and well at the present day. Certain it
is that his cure at that time was complete. [Note. We were told this
fact by a trustworthy eye-witness.]

It was evening before all the wounds were dressed, and it was dark night
ere the disorder caused by the action and its consequences were removed,
and the gun-boat restored to somewhat of its wonted tidiness and
appearance of comfort. But there was little comfort on board during the
silence of that long night, which seemed to many as though it would
never end; and which, in the case of a few, ended in Eternity.

Although silence began to descend on all, sleep was not there.
Excitement, fatigue, and the awful scenes they had witnessed, drove it
from the pillows of Aileen and her friend. Frequent calls for the aid
of the surgeon put anything like refreshing rest--much though he
required it--quite out of the question, and at whatever hour of the
night or early morning he entered the temporary hospital where the
sufferers lay, he was sure to be met by the white flash of the many eyes
in haggard swart faces that turned eagerly and expectantly towards him--
proving that sleep had little or no influence there.

There was less of this want of repose, strange to say, in another part
of the vessel.

Down in the dark hold, where one feeble lamp cast a mere apology for
light on the wretched surroundings, many of the pirates slept soundly.
Their days were numbered--each one knew that full well--yet they slept.
Their hearts ought to have been fall of dark forebodings, but they
slumbered--some of them with the profound quietude of infants! One
might wonder at this were it not a familiar fact. This condition of
"the wicked" has been observed in every age, and is stated in holy writ.

But _all_ were not asleep in that dismal prison-house. There were among
them, it seemed