There was a breaker of water in the stern-sheets, and several oars lay upon the thwarts. A man was sent below and presently he came back with a bag of ship’s biscuit which he tossed over the side into the boat. O’Toole’s lashings were cast adrift as he stood in the mizzen channels, and he was shoved into her. A man let go the painter, forward, and, before the second mate could turn around, he was adrift and going slowly astern. I watched him as he stood there in the sunlight, while the breeze, which just ruffled the ocean, made long, dark streaks in the water around his boat. I thought of his past and what a fine mate he had been. Rough man as he was, he appeared grand to me, standing there gazing silently after us, adrift and alone. The ruffians crowded to the rail and hailed him with jeers and curses. He remained silent and motionless, with his arms folded and his head bowed slightly forward, until he drifted slowly out of sight. I tried to bid him farewell, but the words stuck in my throat. Benson’s voice sounded behind me, and I turned. The breeze had increased, and I was ordered to lay a course to the southward. After a good deal of bungling I finally had the ship braced sharp up to the southeast trade, which we were now beginning to feel, and when I had a chance to look about me again there was nothing in sight astern save the blue sea and sky. CHAPTER XVII. I am not going to dwell too long on that cruise under Benson and describe its horrible details; there are enough hard things in the future, without going back into the past. Any one who has a morbid taste for listening to tales of deviltry will have to get someone else to go into the minor incidents of that strange voyage. As to that convict Benson, I will say that the excesses and mutinies that he overcame and put down with an iron hand showed the power of the man’s character. Had he been a man of principle, a better one never lived to command a ship. Authority was in every tone of his voice and every motion of his hand; but he was a villain and his ship was a floating hell. When we headed away to the s’uth’ard he had a ship and crew capable of keeping the seas for a couple of months at the least, and the men were ready for any known or unknown crime. Ten of our men had joined. Benson was not very communicative, but I gathered from his remarks that he had been pretty nearly everything that was bad and very little of anything that was good. He certainly appeared well informed on all subjects. I learned from the men that he was but little over thirty years old and that he had a life sentence against him. Afterward I found out that it was for a desperate attempt upon a Dublin bank, where two officers were killed on surprising the gang of burglars at work. There were all kinds of wild stories told about him among the men, and, although they were perhaps greatly exaggerated, he certainly appeared equal to any occasion where coolness and nerve were to be depended on.