botheration? Tell her to mind her own business. Pretty thing, indeed! Come, dear, no nonsense; pack up my kit." 66 But, Joe dear, there was your photograph fell off the nail on Tuesday, that night I saw a shooting star fall, close to the docks, and it was n't sent for nothing. Don't go, Joe; don't go." "Go I must, Jenny dear, and go I shall, so don't make it painful, there's a good little woman. Come, I'll go up with you now, and kiss George and Lizzy. I won't wake them; then we 'll go and look out the shirts and things for the chest. Keep a good heart; you know I shall soon be back. I've got a nice captain, and a smart first mate." III. "WHY, Captain Thompson, who ever thought to have found you here, and only quartermaster?" said the purser, as he stood at the gangway of the Shooting Star, watching the fresh provisions brought in. "Well, I am sorry to see you so reduced, sir, I am, indeed. How was it?" The quartermaster drew him on one side with a rueful look. He was a purple, jolly, sottish-looking man, with swollen features. nal "It was the grog, Joe, as did it, all the infergrog," ," he said. "I lost my last ship, the Red Star, and then everything went wrong; but I've struck off drinking now, Joe; I was n't fit to have a ship, that 's about it, lost myself, too, Joe; and here I am with my hands in the tar-bucket again, trying to do my dooty in that station of life, as the Catechism used to say." "And how do you like our captain and crew, sir?" Pennant said, under his breath. "Captain's as good a man as ever trod in shoeleather, - upright man, though he will have the work done, but the crew ain't much, between ourselves. Four of them first-class, the rest loafers and skulkers, wanting to emigrate, picked up on the quays, half thieves, half deserters, not worth their salt. They'll all run when they get to Quebec. Then there's the first mate, he's a nice niggerdriver, he is, bound for a bad port, I think. I would n't trust him with a ship, that's all I can say, unless it was a pirate ship, that he might get on with; but he is smooth enough before the captain, he takes care of that, curse him." Just at that moment there came a shrill voice screaming curses from the shore. -- it "Look alive, you skulkers, there," it cried, was the mate's voice, "or I'll let you know. We sha'n't be ready by Tuesday, if you don't hurry. Not a drop of grog before the work 's done, mind that. I'll have no infernal grumbling while I'm mate; and what are you doing there, quartermaster, idling? Mr. Purser, see at once if the stores are all in, and hand in the bills to me to give to Captain Ritson." The men, ragged, sullen fellows, worked harder, but cursed in an underbreath. The moment the captain came on board, the mate's manner entirely altered. He crouched and whispered, and asked for orders, and spoke to the men with punctilious quietude. Cardew had some strange hold over the captain, as the purser soon discovered, -some money matters, -some threat, which he held over Ritson's head, about his father's farm in Cumberland, some power that the captain dreaded, though he tried to appear cheerful, trusting, and indifferent. At first tyrannical to the men, Cardew had now begun to conciliate them in every possible way, especially when Captain Ritson was not on deck. The purser was in his cabin, the twentieth day after the Shooting Star had started. He was head down at his accounts, and the luminous green shade over the lamp threw a golden light upon rows of figures and the red lines that divided them. He was working silently, honest, zealous fellow that he was, when a low tap came at the cabin-door. He leaped off his seat and opened the door; it was old Thompson, the quartermaster, who shut it after him with a suspicious care. "Well, Thompson," said the purser, looking up with an overworked and troubled expression," what is it?" The quartermaster sat down with a hand on either knee. "I tell you what it is, Mr. Pennant, between you and me, there's mischief brewing." "Thompson, you've been at the rum again," said the amazed purser, in a reproachful voice. 66 No, Mr. Pennant, I have n't; no, I am sober as the day I was born. Never you mind how I learned what I am going to tell you. There was a time when no one dared accuse Jack Thompson of eavesdropping, without getting an answer straight between the eyes, and quick too; but now I'm a poor rascal no one cares for; only fit to mend old rope and patch sails, and I can stoop now to do things I should have been ashamed of once, even if I had done them, as I did this, for good." There came at this moment a pert rap at the door, and Harrison, the ship's boy, thrust in his head. Well, what do you want?" said the purser, in his sharp, honest way. 66 "Now, Mr. Quartermaster, let us know the worst. I think I suspect-it is something about our first mate. This is going to be an unlucky voyage, Let us hear the worst quick, that we may do something to stop the leak.” can see. The quartermaster, a stolid man, of Dutch temperament, and by no means to be hurried, proceeded as calmly as if he were spinning a yarn over the galley fire. "What I heard the first mate and the carpenter talk about only two hours ago was this. The ice-fog's come on, and the men (a bad lot in any weather, all but Davis and two or three more) are beginning to think we're running dangerously near the ice, and that we shall get nipped. The mate, when the captain is away, encourages them in this idea, and the worst of them talk now of forcing the captain to steer more southward, so as to keep clear of the ice-packs off Labrador." The purser started, and uttered an exclamation of surprise and indignation. "But what for?" "What for? Why, for this. The first mate, as he let out, has had the lading of the vessel. Well, what did he do, with the help of some scoundrel friend of his, a shipping agent, but remove two thirds of the machinery from the cases, unknown, of course, to Mr. Blizzard, and pile them up with old iron, unknown to the captain, who was away because his father was dying, and now they want to sink the vessel, and then to go home and sell the plunder. That's about the size of it." "Come this moment and tell the captain of this scoundrel," said the purser, leaping up and locking his desk resolutely. "Now, avast heaving there, not just yet, Mr. Purser, by your leave; let the thing ripen a little; let me pick up what I can in the fo'ksal, they don't mind a poor old beast like me." "What's all this?" cried a shrill, spiteful voice, as the door was thrust violently open. "Where is this purser fellow? Who is it dares to disobey my orders? What do you mean, purser, by not serving out this rum? No skulking here. Thompson, go on deck, see all made taut for the night, and the fog-bell rigged, or we shall be run down in this cursed fog.' the service was over. As he collected the Bibles, "I want a word with you, Mr. Pennant,” he said, The captain did not lift his eyes from the table at this answer, but giving a slight, half-disdainful sigh, poured out a glass of water and drank it, then rose, shook the purser by the hand, and looked steadily in his face. "Come up with me, purser, on deck," he said, " and we will settle this matter at once. Some one has been altering the vessel's course, I feel sure, since the morning. If it is the mate, I will put him in irons. If it cost me my right arm, I'll keep him in irons. I'm a fool not to have seen it all before. I was warned about that man in Liverpool." When the captain stood upon the deck, the chill, white ice-fog was again bearing down fast on the Shooting Star. It was bearing down with a specThompson slunk out of the cabin. tral gloom that was depressing in a sea known to be The purser did not finch; he took his cap quietly still half blocked with ice-packs. A Sabbath calm from its peg. "Mr. Cardew," he said, "I only reigned over the vessel. The men were lying down obeyed the captain's orders, and I shall continue to by the trim rope coils, some reading, some conversdo so till you take command of the vessel. I'm going; not a plank but was clean as a pink; not a ing on deck for a smoke before I turn in. Good night, sir.” 66 The mate's eyes became all at once bloodshot and phosphorescent with a cruel light. "I tell you what it is, Pennant," he said; "if I was your captain, I'd maroon you on an iceberg before you were five hours older, and I'd let you know first, with a good bit of pickled rope, what it was to disobey your superior officer." bolt-head or brass but shone as well as anything The captain said not a word, but walked straight "Good night, sir; threatened men live long." And perhaps you will allow me to lock up my cabin? Thank you." With this good-humored defiance the purser ran, laughing and singing, up the cabin stairs. It was Sunday morning, and the ice-fog had lifted. The vessel had met with mere pancake ice, loose sheets thin as tinsel, but nothing more; the wind blew intensely cold as if from ice-fields of enormous size, but no bergs had been seen, and the captain, judging from the ship's reckoning, hoped still to make a swift and successful voyage, and to be the first to reach Quebec that season. The men were mustered for prayers in the state cabin. It was a pleasant sight to see them file in, two and two, so trim, with their blue shirts turned back from their big brown necks, their jaunty-knotted black silk neckerchiefs and their snowy-white trousers; the petty officers in their best blue jackets, and all so decorous and disciplined, as they took their prescribed seats. Pleasant, too, it was to see the hardy captain in that wild and remote sea so calmly and gravely reading the chapter from the Bible relating to Paul's voyage, with an unconscious commandingofficer air. If the ship-boy dared to cough, that stern, gray eye nailed him to his seat; if the boatswain shuffled his feet, there was a reproving pause between the verses; if even the spray broke over the hatchway, the captain was down upon it. The purser was the last to leave the cabin when "Why, you're steering south," he said, quietly, "I am steering as the first mate told me," said The first mate, as the man said this, came up and took the wheel from him insolently, as if in defiance of the captain. "Jackson's steering right," he said. "Right you call it," said the captain, storming. Cardew still refused to let go the wheel. With "Now, Captain Ritson," said Cardew, as he rose indignities. Last night you refused to join me in | as I am informed by my excellent friend the carmy sensible scheme for baffling the rascals who ex-penter here, almost exactly three hours after our pose us to danger and then underpay us. Now I departure. A more pliant disposition and a more will not accept your partnership. O, you're a rash, graceful concession to those business arrangements, violent man, though you are so pious; where's your in which I solicited your co-operation, would have Providence now? Come, my boys, leave these led to very different results; gentlemen, that gun fools, and get out the wine; we'll have a spree to- is from a vessel lying off the ice-field which we are night, for to-morrow we shall be on shore, and per- now skirting; that vessel will take us up. How haps starting again for England. Come, get out about that blow now? We have money enough to this man's brandy. We'll have a night of it. It's pay for our passage. Farewell. Lower the boats cold enough for these fellows, ain't it? But it'll there. Captain Ritson, I have the honor of wishing make them warm seeing us drinking." you a pleasant voyage to heaven.". That night, as the liquor went round, and the songs circulated among the mutineers to the doleful accompaniment of the monotonous and funeral fogbell, the captain and seven friends lying bound against the frozen shrouds, the vapor lifted for a moment eastward and disclosed an aurora borealis that lit up all the horizon with a majestic fan of crimson and phosphorescent light that darted upward its keen rays, and throbbed and quivered with almost supernatural splendor. The electric lustre lit the pale faces of the captain and his fellow-prisoners. Why, here are the merry dancers," said the first mate, now somewhat excited by drinking, as he walked up to the captain, and waved a smoking hot glass of grog before his face. "Why, I'll be hanged if they ain't the blessed angels dancing for joy because you and your brother saints will so soon join them. What do you think of Providence by this time, Ritson, eh?" 66 The mutineers put their glasses together, and laughed hideously at this. "Just as I always did. God watches us at sea as well as by land," was the captain's calm reply. "I'd rather even now be bound here, than change my conscience with yours, Cardew. I'm a plain man, and I mean it when I say that it's no worse dying here than at home in a feather-bed. It is less hard to part with the world here." "O, if you 're satisfied, I am. Here, glasses round to drink to the Pious Captain. All his gang are here but that boy, that little devil Harrison; search for him everywhere, men; he must n't be left; if he is in the hold, smoke him out with brimstone; never mind if he does n't come out, he 'll have his gruel if you keep the hatches well down." Ay, ay, sir," was the reply, with a brutal and disgusting laugh; and away the men went on their search, eager as boys for a rat-hunt. Captain Ritson made no answer till the boats were lowered. "God will avenge us, if it seemeth good to him," was the only malediction he uttered. Men, I thank God that I still trust in his mercy, and, worst come to the worst, I am ready to die." "So am I," said the purser, "if I could only first look up and see that yellow rascal dangling at the yard-arm." "It's all up with us," said the quartermaster. "I only wish the black villains had given us one noggin round before they left." An hour passed, the last sound of the receding boats had died away. The sailors began to groan and lament their fate. "Have you any hope left, Captain Ritson, now?" said the purser, in a melancholy voice. “O Jenny, Jenny, my dear wife, I shall never see you again." "As for my wife," said the quartermaster, "it's no great loss. I'm thinking more of myself. Oh, those villains." 66 "I have no hope," said the captain, bravely, "but I am ready to die. I trust in the mercy of God. He will do the best for us, and he will guard my poor children.' Just then, like a direct answer from Heaven, the fog grew thinner and thinner, and the sun shone through with a cold yellow lustre, showing the line of land for miles; alas! it was not land, but ice-pack, miles of it, rising into mountainous bergs, green as emerald, blue as sapphire, golden as crysolite, and stretching away into snow-plains and valleys. The nearest cliffs were semi-transparent, and glistened with prismatic colors, but in the distance they merged again into cold clinging fog. The nearest ice was about two miles off. The captain looked at his companions, and they at him, but they did not speak, their hearts were so An hour after, all but the watch to toll the fog-full, for the water could be now heard gurgling and bell, the mutineers on board the Shooting Star were sunk into a drunken and wallowing sleep. That night, from time to time, Captain Ritson, kept his men's hearts up with cheerful words; the cold was hard to bear, but they survived it. When day broke, they all united in prayer that God would allow them to die soon and together. They had sunk into a torpid semi-sleep, when the sound of a gun through the fog, in the distance, aroused them. At the same moment, the loud taunting voice of the mate awoke the bound men to a sense of their misery and despair. bubbling upward in the hold. "We have two hours more to live, and let us spend it," said the captain, bravely, "in preparing for death. After all, it is better than dying of cold and hunger, and it is only the death us sailors have been taught to expect at any moment.” "Good morning, Captain Ritson," said the mate. "Lord, lads, how chopfallen that smart fellow the purser is, and look at those A.B. sailors, who used to sneer at you, and call you skulkers, loafers, and Liverpool dregs. How our fat friend the quartermaster must miss his grog; hard, is n't it? Captain Ritson, it is my painful duty to inform you (lower the two boats there, quick, men, and stave the third) that we are about to leave this ship, which will sink, แ "I should n't care if it was not for my poor old mother," said one of the sailors, "but now she'll have to go on the parish. O, it's hard, bitter hard.” "Fie, man," said the captain, with his unquenchable courage, "have I not my children, and the purser his wife. What must be, must be,- bear it Îike a man." At that moment a shrewd boyish face showed itself round the corner of the cabin stairs, and the next instant up leaped and danced Harrison, the ship's boy, with a sharp carving knife in his hand. He capered for joy round the captain, and was hailed with a tremendous shout of delight and welcome as he released the men one by one, beginning with his master. 66 They thought I was in the hold," he said, "did n't they? but I was hiding under the captain's sofa all the time, and there I lay till I was sure they were gone. The vessel's filling fast, Captain Ritson; there is no time to lose. Hurrah!" ́ "It is quite true," said the purser, as he returned from below with the captain. "We have one hour, no more, to rig a raft in, so to it, my lads, with a will. The leak's too far gone, and we've not hands enough to make the pumps tell on it." The men were shaking hands all round, intoxicated with joy at their escape. “Come, men, enough of that. I'm a plain man, and what I say I mean," said the captain, already himself. "We're not out of the wood yet, so don't holler. Come, set to at the raft, and get all the biscuits and junk those villains have left. I shall be the last man to leave the wessel. I sha'n't leave her at all till she begins to settle down. Purser, get some sails for tents. Quartermaster, you look to the grub. Harrison, you collect the spars for the men; Davis, you see the work is strong and sure. It is n't the coast I should choose to land on; but any port in a storm, you know; and, purser, you get two or three muskets and some powder and shot. We may have to live on sea-birds for a day or two, till God sends us deliverance, death, or a ship; that is our alternative. Come, to work." The raft was made in no time. But the stores proved scanty. The scoundrel mate had thrown overboard, spoiled, or carried off all but three days' provision of meat, biscuit, and rum. The captain had almost to be forced from the vessel. They had not got half a mile away when the great ice-pack closed upon it, just as she was sinking. As the Shooting Star slowly settled down, Captain Ritson took off his cap and stood for a moment bareheaded. "There," said he, "goes as good a wessel as ever passed the Mersey lights; as long as she floated she'd have done Messrs. David and Blizzard credit." “Good by, old Shooting Star," said the men. "If ever a man deserved the gallows, it's that first mate of ours." The raft reached the shore safely. "I take possession of this 'ere floating pack," said the captain, good-humoredly, to keep up the men's spirits, as he leaped on the ice, "in the name of her blessed Majesty, and I beg to christen it Ritson's Island, if it is an island; but if it is joined on to the mainland, we'll wait and see what the mainland is. I wonder if there are many bears, or puffins, or white foxes, on it. And now let's rig the tents, and then we'll measure out the food." The next day brought no hope. The pack proved to be of enormous size, and a deep ice-fog prevented its complete exploration. The food was fast decreasing. The few penguins on the pack would not come within shot. Once they saw a white bear, but it dived, and appeared no more. The men's hearts began to sink; half the spars had been used up for the fires; one day more and the fuel would be gone; the rum gone; the meat gone. Frost and starvation awaited them. There were now murmurs. Once the captain came on two of the sailors who were crying like children; another time he observed the men's fierce and hungry looks, as they watched the quartermaster cowering under the tent, and he knew too well what those savage fires in their hollow eyes indicated. "I must come to the casting of lots for one of | us," he heard them whisper. "Every hour we can pull on gets us more chance of a ship." The next day the purser shot two penguins, and ate greedily of the nauseous flesh. The fourth day the provisions were exhausted at the first meal. Then Captain Ritson stood up, his musket in his hand, for he had all this time kept watch at night like the other men, and shared every labor and privation. The quartermaster was lamenting his fate. "If this voyage had only turned out well," he said, "I might have got a ship again; for the firm promised me a ship again if I only kept from drink and did my duty; and this time I have done it by them, and I should have saved the vessel if it had n't been for this mutiny.” Captain Ritson began, - "Mr. Quartermaster, silence. This is no time for crying over spilt milk. I don't wish to hurt your feelings, for you 're an honest man, though you sometimes rather overdid the grog. I'm a plain man, and I mean what I say, and what I say is this, here we are, and we don't know whether it is berg or mainland, and no food left, not a crumb. Now, what is to be done? We hear the bear growl, and the fox yelp; but if we can't shoot them, that won't help us much. We must spend all to-day in trying for the mainland; if we find the sea to the eastward, we must then turn back, commit ourselves to God, who directs all things in the heavens above and the earth beneath (you all heard me read that on Sunday, and I need n't repeat it), and take to the raft, whatever happens. But there's one thing I have to say, as a plain man, and that is, if any coward here dares even whisper the word 'cannibalism,' I'll shoot him dead with this gun I hold in my hand, and mean to hold day and night. We are Christian men, mind; and no misery shall make wild beasts of us, while I am a live captain, — so mind that." The exploration destroyed the men's last hope. The mile's painful march only served to prove that wide tracts of sea, full of shaking ice, lay between the pack and the shore. "I see something ahead like a man's body," said the purser, who had volunteered to climb an eminence, and report if any vessel could be discerned. It is partly covered with snow, and it lies on the edge of a deep hole in the ice." The party instantly made for it. Harrison, being light of foot, was the first to reach it, and to shout, "O captain! captain! come here! it's Phillips, the carpenter, that went away with the mate." And so it was. They all recognized the hard bad face. An empty bottle lay by the body. "I see it all," said the captain. "He got drunk, he lagged behind, and they lost him in the fog. Some vessel has taken them off." "I wish it had been the mate," said the purser. As he spoke, a huge black head emerged for a moment from the water, and all the men fell back and cried it was the Devil come for the carpenter. "Nonsense, you flock of geese," said the captain; "it was only a black seal. I only wish he'd show again, and we'd have a shot at him; he'd keep us for two days. Now then, push on, for we must get on the raft and into the open sea before dark, and the Lord guide and help us.' Slowly and silently the melancholy band, with only two sound-hearted men left among them, the captain and the purser, ascended the last snow hill leading to the shore, where the raft and the tents had been left six hours before. The sun, a globe of crimson fire, was setting behind banks of gray and ominous mist. Two of the men were now frostbitten in the cheeks, and lay down to be rubbed with snow by their companions. The captain strode forward alone to the top of the hill to reconnoitre. He was seen by them all striding forward till he reached the summit, but slowly now, for that giant of a man was faint with hunger and fatigue. The men sat down waiting for him to return, and rubbing themselves with snow. He returned slower than he had ascended, feeble and silent. He did not look his companions straight in the face, but wrung his hands, pulled his sou'wester over his eyes, and sat down by the tired men. Then he rose gravely, with his old impregnable courage, and said, "Men, I bring you bad news; but bear it like Christians. It's all sent for a good purpose. Our raft has been carried off by a flow of drift ice. We have only a few hours to live. I'm a plain man, and mean what I say. Let us die with a good heart, and without repining. It is not our own fault as to this." Two of the men uttered yells of despair, and threw themselves on the ground; the rest seemed to actually grow smaller, and shrink together in their hopeless despair. The purser rocked to and fro, holding his head between his hands. The quartermaster shook with the cold, and turned purple with fear. The boy burst into an agony of tears. 66 Come, men, let us light a fire," said Captain Ritson. "We are not women. Let us collect any remaining wood, and, having prayed together and committed ourselves into His hands (the captain took off his hat and looked upwards), let us sleep, and in that sleep, if it is His will, death will take us." But nothing could rouse them now. The purser, and the purser only, had strength enough left to collect the few pieces of driftwood outside the tents. It was like digging one's own grave, as the night began to fall, and shut out the white cliffs and desolate tracts of ice. "Light it, Pennant," said the captain, "while we kneel round and commit ourselves to Him who never leaves the helm, though he may seem to sometimes when the storm hides Him." The fire crackled and spluttered; then it rose in a thin wavering flame. "Before this is burnt out, messmates, we shall have started on another voyage, and pray God we get safely to port. Now, then, load all the muskets, and fire them at the third signal I give. If there is any vessel within two miles off the pack, they may perhaps hear us. One, two, three." The discharge of the five guns broke the ghastly stillness with a crashing explosion, which seemed to rebound and spread from cliff to cliff till it faded far away in the northern solitudes, where death only reigned in eternal silence, and amid eternal snow. "There goes our last hope," said the captain; "but I am thankful I can still say, His will be done; and I trust my children to His mercy." "My wife don't need much praying for," said the quartermaster. "She'll fight her way, I bet." Just then the purser, who had been staring at the horizon, trying to pierce the gloom to the right, leaped on his feet, shouted, screamed, cried, embraced the captain, and danced and flung up his hat. Every one turned round and looked where he was looking, There they saw a light sparkle, and then a red light blaze up, and then a rocket mount in a long tail of fire till it discharged a nosegay of colored stars. It was a ship answering their light. Then came the booming sound of a ship's gun. It was a vessel lying off the pack, and they were saved. An hour's walk (they were all strong enough now) brought the captain and his men to the vessel's side. The ship was only three miles off along the shore, but the fog had hidden it from them when they had returned to lay down and die. Ås honest rough hands pressed theirs, and helped them up the vessel's side, and honest brown faces smiled welcome, and food was held out, and thirty sailors at once broke into a cheer that scared the wolves on the opposite shore, Captain Ritson said, — "Thank God, friends, for this kindness. I'm a plain man, and I mean what I say; but my heart's too full now to tell you all I feel. Purser, I did lose hope just now, when I saw the raft carried away." One autumn afternoon, four months later, three men entered Mr. Blizzard's office and inquired for that gentleman. "He is engaged just now," said a new clerk (the rest had left), and pointing to an inner glass door that stood ajar. Engaged with Captain Cardew, of the Morning Star; he sails to-morrow for Belize. Take seats." "The muffled-up sailor-looking men took seats near the half-open door, through which came low words of talk. "Ritson was too reckless," said a disagreeable voice, "and quite lost his head in danger." "No doubt," said another voice. Take another glass of sherry, captain. Do you like a dry wine?” "The purser, too, was not very honest, I fear, and very careless about the stores. By the by, did I ever tell you about that drunken quartermaster, Thompson, losing that ship of yours, the Red Star, off the Malabar coast. He had just returned from Quebec, so Pennant told me, who sailed with him. He had been sotting at Quebec, and when the vessel was ready to start, he said he would n't go. They found him obstinate drunk. Will you believe it, he remained drunk the whole voyage till they came and told him he was near Glasgow. Then he leaped up, shaved himself, put on his best coat and a white tie, and went on shore to see our agents, old Falconer and Johnson, fresh as paint. Ha! ha!" The other voice laughed too. It was Mr. Blizzard, from his throne of large capital; he was prob ably about to replace a ledger, and consult the almanac, as he had done that afternoon four months before. "You must make a better voyage with the Morning Star than Captain Ritson did with his unfortu nate vessel," said Mr. Blizzard. "Don't be afraid of the sherry." But Cardew never drank that glass of sherry, for the door just then bursting open, dashed the glass to pieces in his hand, and Captain Ritson seized him by the throat. “I'm a plain man, Mr. Blizzard, sir,” he said, " and I mean what I say; but if ever there was a mutinous, thieving, lying, false, shark-hearted scoundrel, it is this man who sunk the Shooting Star, and left me, and the purser, and six more of us, to die off Labrador on the ice-pack. Purser, bring in that policeman, and we 'll have justice done!" At the next assizes, Cardew was sentenced to nine years' transportation for frauds on the house of |