Owing to the captain being below, the mate was irresolute what to do, being aware that the success of the speculation depended on their getting to Surinam with all possible speed; however, he was at length persuaded--the helm was put up, and the ship bore away. As we neared the wreck, and were standing by the mizzen shrouds with our glasses, the captain came up from the cabin. He looked up with astonishment to the sails and the direction of the vessel’s head, and in a voice of suppressed passion said, as he turned to the mate, ‘What is the meaning of this, Mr. Wyllie? Who has dared to alter the ship’s course without my leave, when you knew very well that we shall hardly be in time for the market, use what expedition we may?’ The young man was confused by this unexpected challenge, and stammered out something about Gemmel having persuaded him. ‘It was me, sir,’ respectfully answered the old sailor, wishing to avert the storm from the mate; ‘I thought you wouldn’t have the heart to leave the wreck, and these people to perish, without lending a hand to save them! We should be neither Christians nor true seamen to desert her, and----’ ‘Damn you and the wreck, you old canting rascal! Do you dare to stand there and preach to me?’ thundered the captain, his fury breaking out. ‘I’ll teach you to disobey my orders! I’ll give you something to think of!’ and seizing a capstan-bar which lay near him he hurled it at the steersman with all his might. The blow was effectual--one end of it struck him across the head with such force as to sweep him in an instant from his station at the wheel, and to dash him with violence against the lee-bulwarks, where he lay bleeding and motionless. ‘Take that, and be damned to you!’ exclaimed the wretch, as he seized the helm and sang out to the men: ‘Stand by sheets and braces--hard a-lee--let go!’ In a twinkling the yards were braced round, and the ship, laid between six points to the wind, was flying through the water. Meanwhile Gemmel was lying without anyone daring to assist him, for the crew were so confounded that they seemed quite undetermined how to act. I stepped to him, therefore, and the mate following my example, we lifted him up. As there was no appearance of respiration, I placed my hand to his heart, but pulsation had entirely ceased--the old man was dead! The bar had struck him directly on the temporal bone, and had completely fractured that part of the skull. ‘He is a murdered man, Captain Mahone!’ said I, laying down the body, ‘murdered without cause or provocation.’ ‘None of your remarks, sir!’ he retorted; ‘what the devil have you to do with it? Do you mean to stir up my men to mutiny? Or do you call disobeying my orders no provocation? I’ll answer it to those who have a right to ask; but till then, let me see the man who dare open his mouth to me in this ship.’