u?" asked Fred.

"The d----d snake has made a finish of me, I believe," he gasped,
placing one hand upon his side, as though the effort to speak had caused
excruciating pain in that region of his body. "Blast his pictur, how he
hugged me!"

"Take another drink of wine," returned Fred, "and then rest until
morning, and we will see what can be done for you."

"By morning, mates, I shall be at rest--never fear. A man can't have his
heart squeezed into his mouth, and hope to live. But I'm darn glad that
I killed the black scoundrel. He'll never _purcel_ another sailor with
his bloody tail."

"Let us make an examination, and see how much you are wounded," I said,
proceeding to strip off his shirt.

"Avast there, shipmate," he cried, in a more feeble voice; "I'm going
fast, so don't disturb me."

"But there may be hope--we will run for a physician."

"Of what use would the old sawbones be? Haven't I already been tortured
enough? Besides, I've no money to pay for a visit."

"We will attend to that part of the duty," rejoined Fred.

"You will?" demanded the wounded man, in astonishment.

"To be sure."

"Well, all I've got to say is, I'm sorry that I attempted to revenge old
Burley's wrongs, and if I could live he might fight for himself--I
wouldn't."

"Did the man you call Burley hire you to redress his fancied wrongs?"
Fred asked.

"He told me that you both had money, and that if I was a mind to, I
could make myself rich, and pay you up for his wound in the hip."

"I'm going," he gasped, at length, "and I feel sorry for my past crimes.
Do you believe that there is a hell where sinners burn forever and
ever? Forgive me. I should have murdered you both had it not been for
that d----d snake. I crept under the canvas while you were at supper,
and while waiting for you to retire, I fell asleep. I am glad that I
didn't kill--. D---- the sn----"

There was a gasping in the man's throat, and with a slight struggle his
breath departed, and his soul flew up to God to be judged, and treated
according to the crimes which were recorded against his name.

"What's to be done?" asked Fred, when he found that the robber's heart
ceased to beat.

"We can do nothing until daylight. Let us go back to bed and try and
sleep."

"And wake up and find a snake for a bedfellow? No, I feel that I shall
not sleep again for a month. I am almost ready to declare that I will
not stop another day at Ballarat, or in Australia. We have me