The crew, ignorant of all former acquaintance between the murderer and the murdered, were exasperated that he had met his death from the hand of the man he was trying to aid, and would have thrown both Willis and Mateo again into the sea, from whence they had just taken them, had not Francisca, whose anxiety to learn the fate of Willis had brought her on deck again, told her father who the men were; and the old Don, getting between the crew of the Diamond and the objects of their fury, explained to them their obligations to one of the party, and begged them to pause. He promised to be responsible for Willis himself, and persuaded them to put Mateo in irons, and carry him into port to be tried, instead of executing him themselves. By the next day both Clara and Willis sufficiently recovered to attend the solemn commitment of De Vere to his last resting-place. Solemn it is, and heart-touching at any time, to see a man committed to a sailor’s grave, but on this occasion the feelings of the lookers-on were peculiarly harrowing—and a gloom, dark and drear, was cast over the rest of the voyage, that had commenced so pleasantly. Clara was deeply affected by the fate of her young husband, thus cut off in the prime of his manhood, without a moment’s warning. Her character was changed; no longer proud and haughty, she determined to devote the rest of her life to the service of God. Francisca and Don Manuel were serious and sad at the thought of De Vere’s sudden death and Clara’s distress, though a feeling of joy, like a spring rill, trickled along the bottom of Francisca’s heart, at the sight of Willis’s daily improvement in health, and from knowing he was near her. Even the crew looked glum and sulky, for there is a superstition amongst sailors, that a murder on board gives a ship bad luck—and they feared a fatal termination to their voyage. Mateo, the cause of all this suffering and mental commotion, was the only one on board who was totally unaffected by it. He was placed under the break of the forecastle, heavily ironed, and was perfectly calm; and when Willis asked him how he came to kill De Vere, and told him he would certainly be hung when they arrived at Cadiz, he said that he was sorry he had knifed De Vere when he did, but it was no more than he had intended to do some time; and as for being hung, it was what he had always expected—and he would grace a rope as well as another. Willis, who liked the man for his faithfulness and dogged courage, had all his physical wants attended to; but no change took place in Mateo’s hardened mind.