Chapter XVI. Conclusion

Among the sailors was an Italian named Francesco. Probably he had another name, but no one knew what it was. In fact, a sailor's last name is very little used. He was a man of middle height, very swarthy, with bright, black eyes, not unpopular, for the most part, but with a violent temper. His chief fault was a love of strong drink. On board the Nantucket grog had been served to the crew; and with that he had been content. But at the time of the wreck no spirits had been saved but the captain's stock of brandy. Francesco felt this to be a great hardship. More than any other sailor he felt the need of his usual stimulant. It was very tantalizing to him to see the captain partaking of his private stock of brandy while he was compelled to get along on water.

"The captain is too mucha selfish," he said one day to a fellow-sailor. "He should share his brandy with the men."

Ben Brady, the sailor to whom he was speaking, shrugged his shoulders.

"I think I will try some of the captain's brandy when he is away," said Francesco, slyly.

"If you do, you will get into trouble. The captain will half murder you if he finds it out."

"He is not captain now--we are all equal--all comrades. We are not on ze sheep."

"Take my advice, Francesco, and leave the brandy alone."

Francesco did not reply, but he became more and more bent on his design.

He watched the captain, and ascertained where he kept his secret store. Then he watched his opportunity to help himself. It was some time before he had an opportunity to do so unobserved, but at length the chance came.

The first draught brought light to his eyes, and made him smack his lips with enjoyment. It was so long since he had tasted the forbidden nectar that he drank again and again. Finally he found himself overcome by his potations, and sank upon the ground in a drunken stupor.

He was getting over the effects when, to his ill-luck, the captain returned from his usual solitary ramble.

"He has been at my brandy!" Captain Hill said to himself, with flaming eyes. "The fool shall pay dearly for his temerity."

He advanced hastily to the prostrate man, and administered a severe kick, which at once aroused the half-stupefied man.

Francesco looked up with alarm, for the captain was a much larger and stronger man than himself.

"Pardon, signor captain," he entreated.

"You have been drinking my brandy, you beast," said Captain Hill, furiously.

I draw a veil over the brutal treatment poor Francesco received. When it was over he crawled away, beaten and humiliated, but in his eye there was a dangerous light that boded no good to the captain.

Presently Francesco began to absent himself. Where he went no one knew or cared, but he, too, would be away