"Never heard of her," said Captain Lingo calmly. "I'm a loyal subject of his Catholic Majesty King James the Second,--may all the saints defend him!" "King James the Second!" cried Mr. Punch. "Why, 'e's been dead these two 'undred year, nearly! 'E's as dead as Christopher Columbus!" Captain Lingo started violently, and his face became dark with anger. "Dead? King James dead? Do you mark that, lads? He calls his blessed Majesty dead! Aha! thou renegade Englishman, thou hast imagined the death of the king! A felony, by St. George! And the punishment is death! What, thou reprobate, dost thou not know 'tis a felony, punishable by death, to imagine the death of the King?" "But 'e _is_ dead. One carn't live two 'undred years, you know." "You hear!" said Captain Lingo, his voice quivering with rage. "He imagines the death of the King! Any judge in the kingdom would sentence him to die for that! 'Tis the law! But enough talk. Captain Lingo is not the man to stand by and see the law defied! For that, my pretty Englishman, thou shalt die the death twice over. There shall be violence in thy case. Thou shalt wish thou hadst never been born. Thou shalt be kept for the last. Ay, ay; there shall be fine sport at his taking off, eh, lads? Enough! Proceed with the ceremony. To imagine the death of the King! Ketch, art thou ready?" "Ay, ay, Captain," said the Practitioner. The captain cast his angry eye over the terrified group shivering in their damp garments. "One of you must be first. Who shall be first? Let me see." Each person quailed as the pirate's eye rested on him. "One moment. We will decide it by chance." He plucked seven sprigs of grass, and broke them into varying lengths. He then held them in his hand so that only the even ends showed. "Now choose," said he. "The longest blade shall be first." Each drew a blade of grass, except Mr. Punch, who had already been reserved for the last. "Thou shalt be quartered alive," said the captain to him. "To dare imagine the death of the King!" Freddie trembled as he drew his sprig of grass; but he did not draw the longest; the longest blade fell to Mr. Hanlon, and the next to Freddie. Mr. Toby was third, the Churchwarden fourth, the Sly Old Codger fifth, Aunt Amanda sixth, and the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg seventh. "We will use that fallen log," said the captain, and led the way towards it. He was now very stern; all his politeness had been dissipated by the offense of Mr. Punch. "Toby," said Aunt Amanda, as they were moving towards the place of the ceremony, "I hope you will excuse me for all the cross words I have ever spoken to you." "Oh, nonsense, Aunt Amanda," said Toby, sniffling a little, "I've been a trial enough, I know it. What will become of the shop?" "Poor Freddie!" said Aunt Amanda. "It just breaks my heart to see him so brave. He's so young to have to--to--And his poor mother! Oh dear, oh dear!"