"It did once cross my mind that I would try to make amends for my former crimes by endeavouring to save the old merchant, and trust to his gratitude to reward me by his daughter's hand; but my courage failed me when I thought of the difficulties I should have to encounter, besides the risk, even should I succeed in preserving the father, after all, of losing the young lady. You see, sir, I had no ballast to keep me steady; from the want of it the first breeze capsized me, as it will every man who attempts to sail without it. The next morning the young lady came on deck, looking fresh and fair as the flowers in May. I walked with her as usual before her sisters appeared, but there was that on my countenance which prevented me meeting her eye. She rallied me on my silence, and I tried to recover my spirits, but in vain. I was on the point of telling her of the danger she was in, and of vowing to protect her and her family with my life, when, as my lips were about to utter the words, I caught the dark eye of Brand Hallton watching me at a distance: pretending that the duty of the ship called me away, I quitted her side. I cannot tell you, sir, what my feelings were as I walked for'ard. I would gladly have cut the villain down as I passed him, but I dared not, my eye quailed before his dark sneering glance. I dived below to my cabin, and buried my face in my hands; I thought my heart would have burst. Again and again I cursed the bitter fate which had delivered me into the power of that more than fiend. I was aroused from my stupor by a dreadful shriek. I rushed on deck. Near the companion lay the old merchant, life ebbing fast away from a deep gash on his head, which had rendered him all but senseless; one of his daughters was kneeling over him, her hands uplifted as if to protect him from further violence. Brand Hallton was furiously engaged with the captain, whom he had driven right aft, and, as I appeared, a blow from his cutlass sent him reeling into the sea. Giving one cry for help, which Hallton answered with a laugh of derision, he cast a look of despair towards the ship, and the waters closed over him for ever. The murderer then turning upon me, exclaimed-- "`You would have betrayed us, would you? You shall suffer for it.' "I was unarmed, and before I could seize anything to defend myself, a blow from his cutlass stretched me on the deck, but not senseless; I wish that I had been so, I should have been spared the horrors I was witness to. "Apparently satisfied with his vengeance, the miscreant turned to other acts of blood. Some of the men had overpowered the first mate, who had remained faithful to the master, and who, even now, while death was staring him in the face, refused to accept his life on the dreadful terms the mutineers proposed. Lashing his hands behind him, they placed him at the outer end of a plank, which they shoved over the stern of the vessel, some of them holding it down in-board.