The surgeon was called, and by his direction the body was taken below and laid upon a cot in the sick-bay, Tom Clare, the gentlest of nurses, being directed to "attend to the instructions of the surgeon, and remain with the lieutenant until further orders." After a time Ford opened his eyes and recognized those about him. Having made a superficial examination of his wound, the doctor placed him in an easy position, directing Clare not to let him excite himself by talking, and absolutely forbidding Tom to allow any one to see him; then walking aft to the captain's cabin he reported his opinion to Puffeigh, viz.: that Lieutenant Ford was severely wounded, and he did not think it possible he could survive more than a few hours. The captain heard the report without observation, and when the surgeon had retired he sent for Crushe, telling him what the doctor had said. As he was speaking Clare entered the cabin, and hurriedly informed them that Lieutenant Ford wished to see them at once, and the doctor said they'd better come. Puffeigh turned pale, and muttered something about not being well himself; but finding the first lieutenant did not help him out, he mustered courage enough to face the dying man, taking Crushe with him, in order that the latter might not escape the scene. Ford had asked how he was hurt, and if he could survive. These questions had been replied to by the doctor, who informed him that he had been accidentally shot by one of the men, and that probably he might not live long. The wounded officer heard this announcement without a shudder, and presently inquired, "Who was it that shot me?" As the surgeon did not reply, he turned his brilliant eyes full upon the face of Clare, who being thus mutely appealed to, observed, "Byrne, sir, but he didn't know it was you." "I forgive him, with all my heart," said Ford. "Send for Captain Puffeigh." Knowing the poor fellow had but a short time to live, the good surgeon sent Tom Clare to the commander, as we have just related. Upon the captain's entering the sick-bay, Ford motioned Clare to give him some water. Seeing this, the doctor administered a stimulant, as he knew the wounded officer very much desired to make a communication before he died. "Send that sailor away," whispered Puffeigh. "He cannot leave his charge," quietly observed the surgeon, who now lifted up his finger, to enjoin silence. Looking towards the captain, Ford spoke as follows:--"Captain Puffeigh--the poor fellow--who did this--deserves--your pity. I forgive--him--and Crushe--knowing it was you he in--tended--to kill, I shall be happy to die--for YOU--if I can--be assured you will--cease--to tyrannize--over--the crew--Don't flog--any--more. Promise me--to save Byrne's--life." "I'll do all I can to save him, Ford--but you are not dying--" quavered Puffeigh.