Ford tried to stretch forth his hand, to grasp that of his senior, but his strength failed him, and with a faint smile he exclaimed, "God bless--you--for the prom--" but was prevented finishing the sentence by the blood rising in his throat. Puffeigh was so frightened that he had to be supported by Crushe, as he left the dying officer's presence. When they arrived aft the latter coolly observed, "I'm sorry for Ford--but it was a very narrow escape for either of us." "Yes," replied the captain, "it was, no doubt, an act of Providence that we escaped." The brutal officers actually imagined their Creator had specially interfered to save one of their miserable lives; and they were not the first tyrants who have flattered themselves in that manner. Lieutenant Ford never rallied sufficiently to give directions as to the disposal of his affairs, but lay calmly and patiently, as if waiting for the messenger of death. Once he murmured "Florence." He evidently was conscious that he was dying, yet death seemed to have no terror for him. The doctor and Clare prayed for the poor fellow, each according to his faith, and the Christian's lips moved in response to theirs. Whatever his belief might have been, he certainly was a good man, and far above the narrow prejudices of sect. He lay there--calm and peaceful--with a rapturous, heavenly expression of countenance, as if, though still lingering by its earthly form, his spirit was fore-tasting the joys of a better world. About noon he breathed his last; and so quietly did the soul pass away, that when the sorrowing midshipmen, who were silently grouped round the entrance to the sick-bay, were informed that the happy face was that of a dead man, they could not believe it. One by one they came in and gazed upon their dead friend, some finding it hardly possible to restrain their grief. About sunset the body of Lieutenant Ford was committed to the deep--cast overboard into the sea--to be devoured by fishes, or float about until dispersed by the water--far away from friends, and the gentle being who loved him so dearly, and to whom he had been so tenderly attached. Puffeigh buried the body with all the puny pomp of an officer's funeral at sea. It mattered little to the noble spirit whether a few meaningless ceremonies were performed or omitted; "his soul was gone aloft," and could not be recalled or affected by the commander's "service." The sailors were all deeply grieved at the sudden death. Ford had always treated them in a kind and proper manner, and his untimely end was probably as sincerely lamented forward as aft. No man felt more sorrow than his assassin. The remembrance of his own sufferings seemed to have been entirely forgotten by him, so absorbed was he in the recollection of the dreadful crime he had committed. Crushe heaped every kind of insult and torture he could devise upon the man, who bore all with the resignation of a martyr.