use it will look as though we came here simply to gloat over their
disgrace," replied Jack.

"Right, my boy."

But there was no way of avoiding them, as there was no turning out of
the street, and all the house doors were closed, so they were compelled
to see all.

First of all came seven of the lowest-looking ruffians in creation,
villains whose countenances were expressive of nothing but brutality
and vice; the eighth was Chivey, whose cheeks bore traces of tears, and
the ninth was Pierre Lenoir, who walked erect and proud as Lucifer,
except when he made a half turn about as though he would like to
strangle Herbert Murray, who walked with tottering steps at the end of
the chain.

"Poor fellows!" said Mrs. Harkaway.

"They deserve it," exclaimed her husband and Harvey, simultaneously.
"They tried to get our boys the very punishment that has overtaken
them."

Our friends, however, had seen enough, and did not care to witness what
followed.

If they had gone inside the harbour gates, they might have seen three
or four very long sharp-bowed vessels moored to the quay or lying at
anchor a little way out.

Neither mast nor sail had these vessels, but from each side projected a
dozen or more of gigantic oars larger than those used by Thames
bargemen.

Had they gone down to the harbour they would presently have seen
chained up, two of them to each oar, but with their feet so far at
liberty that they could move backwards and forwards three paces.

Then they would have heard the word of command given, and would have
seen the poor slaves tugging away at the oars till the huge craft was
sweeping rapidly out to sea, while the galley-master walking up and
down between the two rows of oarsmen, gave blows of his whip on the
right hand or the left when he saw a man flagging, or an oar that did
not swing in unison with the rest.

Such was the fate to which the career of crime had brought the son of
the once respected shipowner Murray.

Slavery from morn till night, beneath a broiling sun, or exposed to
cold, rain, and hail, the coarsest of black bread and lentil pottage,
formed his scanty meal; his associates the lowest type of humanity.

And even over and above such a hard lot there fell upon his heart the
craven fear some day that Lenoir, who was chained to the next oar,
would break loose and kill him.

Many would have preferred death to such slavery, but Herbert Murray
feared to die.

"Hollo, Englishman, faster