“Now, clerk of the crown, please to swear in the mate of the Porpoise.” It was done. “Now, my man, you were taken going through the Caicos Passage in the Porpoise by pirates, in August last--were you not?” “Yes, sir.” “Turn your face to the jury, and speak up, sir. Do you see any of the honest men who made free with you in that dock, sir? Look at them, sir.” “The mate walked up to the dock, stopped, and fixed his eyes intently on the young Spaniard. I stared breathlessly at him also. He grows pale as death--his lip quivers--the large drops of sweat once more burst from his brow. I grew sick, sick. “Yes, your honour,” said the mate. “Yes--ah!” said the devil’s limb, chuckling--“we are getting on the trail at last. Can you swear to more than one?” “Yes, your honour.” “Yes!” again responded the sans wig. “How many?” The man counted them off. “Fifteen, sir. That young fellow there is the man who cut Captain Spurtel’s throat, after violating his wife before his eyes.” “God forgive me, is it possible?” gasped Thomas Cringle. “There’s a monster in human form for you, gentlemen,” continued devil’s limb. “Go on, Mr Rumbletithump.” “That other man next him hung me up by the heels, and seared me on the bare”--Here honest job had just time to divert the current of his speech into a loud “whew.” “Seared you on the whew!” quoth the facetious lawyer, determined to have his jest, even in the face of forty-three of his fellow creatures trembling on the brink of eternity. “Explain, sir, tell the court where you were seared, and how you were seared, and all about your being seared.” Job twisted and lolloped about, as if he was looking out for some opening to bolt through; but all egress was shut up. “Why, please your honour,” the eloquent blood mantling in his honest sunburnt cheeks; while from my heart I pitied the poor fellow, for he was absolutely broiling in his bashfulness--“He seared me onon--why, please your honour, he seared me on--with a redhot iron!” “Why, I guessed as much, if he seared you at all; but where did he sear you? Come now,” coaxingly, “tell the court where and how he applied the actual cautery.” Job being thus driven to his wit’s end, turned and stood at bay. “Now I will tell you, your honour, if you will but sit down for a moment, and answer me one question.” “To be sure; why, Job, you brighten on us. There, I am down now for your question.” “Now, sir,” quoth Rumbletithump, imitating his tormentor’s manner much more cleverly than I expected, “what part of your honour’s body touches your chair?” “How, sir!” said the man of words--“how dare you, sir, take such a liberty, sir?” while a murmuring laugh hummed through the court. “Now, sir, since you won’t answer me, sir,” said Job, elevated by his victory, while his hoarse voice roughened into a loud growl, “I will answer myself. I was seared, sir, where”-- “Silence!” quoth the crier at this instant drowning the mate’s voice, so that I could not catch the words he used.