My sweetheart came to the table and leaned upon it to breathe and rally. He was very pale, but his eyes glowed with the light of a savage satisfaction, and his general expression was one of sullen, wrathful exultation. The hour was now about four o’clock. We had made no mid-day meal. I asked Tom if I should get some dinner for the little company of us. ‘Aye,’ said he; ‘but first I want a word with our new hand. Take the wheel from him, Will, and send him in.’ The man Collins entered, dangling his Scotch cap. He was scared; the pistol report had no doubt frightened him heartily. The wheel stood right in front of the house, the door and little windows were open, and the man would need to be deaf not to hear what had passed. ‘What is your name?’ said Tom. ‘John Collins, sir.’ ‘What was your rating aboard the _Arab Chief_?’ ‘Able seaman, sir.’ ‘I’m master of this little brig till I find an owner for her,’ said Tom. ‘We’re going to work her north so as to get Great Britain handy aboard, should any of us turn sick of the sea and want to go ashore. We’re not bound to the Cape, as you’ve been led to believe. It’s all the same to you, I suppose?’ ‘I’d rather make a straight passage home, of course,’ answered the man. ‘We’re not pirates, as what you’ve been listening to might lead you to fear. You can cheer up, my lad, reckon that you’ve got a good berth, and that all will go well with you. See here, now: I commanded the _Arab Chief_ when Rotch was her chief mate and Nodder second and carpenter. Those two scoundrels swore that I attempted to scuttle her to defraud the insurance offices; they brought me before the court and got me sentenced to a term of transportation. I happen to be here in this brig off the island of Tristan d’Acunha when they, along with you, are sent aboard me as shipwrecked men wanting to get away. This is the act of God, Collins! Collins, it’s a large and beautiful mercy shown to a broken-hearted man, and an opportunity he’s been made too much of a devil by Rotch to despise. Before my two villains leave this brig they sign a confession, declaring that their charge against me was a shocking, horrible lie; that they themselves made the holes in the barque and hid the auger in my cabin. Rotch is the bigger villain; the other’s an illiterate, drunken scoundrel. Rotch shall have time granted him if he----’ ‘Tom,’ I interrupted, ‘Collins wants to speak.’ I had been watching the fellow whilst my sweetheart addressed him, and observed his face take a sort of colour and grow full of meaning. Tom arrested his speech. Collins, twisting his Scotch cap in both hands, exclaimed: ‘Captain, it’s come upon me now! I had a sort o’ fancy o’ ’t whilst I stood a-listening. You’ll be the party meant, and I’ll just give you what’s in my head whilst I’ve got it. I was at the wheel one night from ten to twelve, about a fortnight afore we was burnt out of the ship.’ ‘You mean the _Arab Chief_?’ said Mr. Bates.