"We pulled off for a mile or more, and then laying on our oars, we told the miserable wretch what we were about to do, giving him one minute to prepare for death. In his struggles to free himself, as he heard his doom, he contrived to loosen one of his hands, and to slip the gag from his mouth. He shrieked out in an agony of fear, and, as he entreated us to let him live, he trembled as if every limb in his body would part. He talked of his wife and family, who would starve if he were taken away from them; he promised, in the most abject terms, to be our slave--to work for us to the utmost of his power--to do all we could require of him; but we laughed at his offers; we reminded him that he had shown no pity to us--that he had caused the death of several of our friends and the imprisonment of others, and that he must take the consequence of his treachery. Again, with groans and tears, he petitioned for mercy; he was not a man much given in general to words, but now they flowed forth, like a torrent in winter, with prayers for life; but nothing, he could say could alter our determination. At first, he attempted to deny what he had done, but we soon made him acknowledge his crime: he had broken our laws, and must abide the penalty. At last, we got tired of listening to him; we were eager for vengeance, and yet we felt a pleasure in witnessing his agony. "`Come--we have had enough of this palaver,' said one of our people. `If you have got a bit of a prayer to say, be quick about it.' "`In a minute more you won't be in so great a hurry to open your mouth,' sneered another. "The miserable wretch saw we were in earnest, and I believe he did try to say a prayer; but we were in a hurry to finish the job. I fully believe, indeed, that every one of us had thought we were going to do an act of strict justice; but when it came to the point, my mind misgave me. There was, however, now no drawing back; I dared not even utter my thoughts to my companions. My hands trembled as I assisted to make the rope, with the stone to it, fast round his feet; but the darkness prevented their seeing my agitation. We then let the stone hang overboard, while we lifted our victim, thus bound hand and foot, on to the gunwale of the boat. For a moment we let him remain there; and oh, what a cry of agony he gave as we tilted him up, and down he went straight into the deep sea!--the water closed over his head, and not a mark remained to show that a moment before another living being had been with us in health and strength! We thought the sea would for ever hide the deed from mortal eye, and that no one but ourselves would ever be able to tell how Arnold died. Ah! fools that we were to think to escape punishment for work like that!