even the brute’s lashes had done the moment before.

“Bress de Lor’! don’ shoot me, cap’n!” cried poor Sam, edging away from the fatal weapon, as Captain Snaggs raised it; “don’t shoot, fo’ de Lor’s sake!”

“I’m going to kill ye like a dog!” rejoined the other, taking aim; but Sam, quick as lightning darted into the weather rigging, making his way forward along the channels, the captain jumping after him and repeating,—“It’s no use. Ye won’t escape me, I tell ye, darkey; ye won’t escape me! I’ll kill ye ez dead ez a dog! Like a dog, d’ye haar?”

As he uttered the last words a second time, as if the repetition of the phrase pleased his cruel ear, there was another ‘click,’ followed by a bright flash and a sharp report; and then, uttering a wild, despairing cry, which was echoed by the men standing around, poor Sam dropped into the sea alongside, his body splashing up the water right inboard into my face as it fell!