moreover, that one man must be last. Depend upon it, Sir, 'that nothing is well done which is done in a hurry.' But I have kept you too long. God bless you, Sir; remember my poor mother, and be sure you meet me on the forecastle to-morrow morning."

The fatal morning came. It was eight o'clock. The gun fired—the signal for punishment flew at our mast-head. The poor men gave a deep groan, exclaiming, "Lord have mercy upon us!—our earthly career and troubles are nearly over!" The master-at-arms. came in, unlocked the padlock at the end of the bars, and, slipping off the shackles, desired the marine sentinels to conduct the prisoners to the quarter-deck.

Here was a scene of solemnity which I hardly dare attempt to describe. The day was clear and beautiful; the top-gallant yards were crossed on board of all the ships; the colours were flying; the crews were all dressed in white trowsers and blue jackets, and hung in clusters,