"Tell her if her watermen come near the ship I will have a cold shot thrown into their boat, and that all her whining won't save her man, who will shortly get what she has helped him to." Upon hearing this, the crew uttered a yell of disgust, one fierce roar, and then all was silent; hardened as some of them were, this was too much for them. Puffeigh was almost mad with rage, and he screamed, "Open your mouths like that once again, and I'll order the marines to fire amongst you, you mutinous hounds," and the marines looked as if they would like to carry out such a humane command. When the gallant Cravan had reported "that the woman was gone," and added, for the edification of the prisoner, "that when he last saw her she was lying all of a heap in the stern of the boat," the captain called to the boatswain, and said, "Mr. Shever, do your duty," upon which the ship's corporal removed the shirt from Clare's back, and retired a few paces to the right. Tom heard all that passed about his wife, but he "ate his heart," and showed no sign of his terrible torture. Shever took a cat-o'-nine-tails' from under his jacket, walked to the left side of the prisoner, grasped the handle firmly in his right, and separated the cords with the fingers of his left hand; then with a rapid swish raised the weapon high above his head, and brought the cruel lashes savagely across the naked back of the helpless victim. "One!" calls the ship's corporal. "Two!" "Three!" and now a number of blue lines crept across the man's back. "Four!" They changed to red, beaded with the blood of the poor wretch, who trembled, yet bore the pain without uttering a word. "Five!" "Six!" "Seven!" What is that staining the boatswain's fingers? Blood, my Christian friends! "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" More blood! Think of that, parents who give your sons to the service of their country! "Eleven!" Blood, which no longer stains the cat alone, for specks fly off and dot the blanched faces of the terror-stricken lads who had been so fiendishly stationed near by the gallant commander. "Twelve!" called the ship's corporal, who then advanced and offered the trembling victim some water, which he refused. Price, the boatswain's mate, now took up his position in the place vacated by Mr. Shever, and at the words, "Boatswain's mate, do your duty," laid on the lash with savage, nervous energy. "One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Fire!" "Six!" The man's back showed a number of broad, blue lines, and two raw patches blushed upon his blade bones. "Seven!" "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" "Eleven!" "Twelve!" The brandy with which the savage had been plied was doing its devil's work, and he seemed desirous of adding a thirteenth blow, but was stopped by the commander. At the last stroke Clare threw back his head, and gasped for water, which was immediately supplied him by the ship's corporal.