"Just then I heard a shout, and, keeping perfectly still, I looked under my half-closed eyelids and saw two of the wreckers dragging a body up the rocks. It was the master of the _Speedie_, poor old John Cartridge of Hamworthy. The wretches began to hack his fingers off, as they had done mine, and even tore a pair of ear-rings forcibly from his ears. Old John wasn’t dead, for this treatment revived him. Seeing this, one of the men, who is none other than that red-haired devil yonder, plunged a knife into his back and toppled his body into the sea." At this the younger prisoner yelled in a terror-stricken voice: "No, no! You are mistaken. ’Twill be my brother as done it. ’Twas not I." "Liar!" retorted the old seaman. "I’ll prove it. Let your men bare his back, good sir, and if he hath not the sign of the Jolly Roger tattooed there, I’ll take back my word." The justice nodded his assent, and the tip-staves proceeded to remove the clothing from the prisoner’s back. Sure enough, there was a death’s-head and cross-bones indelibly impressed there. "Continue your evidence, Master Hawkes." "Well, your Honour, as I was a-saying, after they had rid themselves of the master’s body, the wretches began to carry their plunder into a cave that opened from the back of the flat rock. Presently one of them stops by me. ’What shall us do with ’e?’ he shouts. I kept very still, feigning death, yet expecting every moment to have a knife betwixt my ribs. ’Is ’e done with?’ asked another. ’Then overboard with ’im.’ Next minute I felt myself being dragged across the platform and pushed off the edge. I fell about a score of feet, striking the water with a heavy splash. When I came to the top I struck out, and found myself close to a shelf of rock which the overhanging ledge hid from the villains above. Here I remained till the coast was clear, then I scrambled up, in spite of my wounds, and made my way across some downs till I met with a kindly farmer, who took me to Wareham. "When I reported the matter to the authorities a body of men were sent from Wareham and Poole; but though they discovered the caves, not a trace of the wreckers, their spoils, or the remains of the _Speedie_ was to be found." The rest of the evidence was soon concluded, proving without doubt that both men were members of a notorious band of Dorset smugglers, whose misdeeds had caused the utmost consternation for years past; and the case was settled by sending both prisoners to the assizes at Winchester. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the account of my journey to Winton to repeat my evidence; but on the return journey (having heard both men sentenced to death), as we were passing through a wood between Twyford and Waltham, a pistol was fired at our coach, the ball shattering the glass and passing close to my uncle’s head.