are taken advantage of by men without hearts.  An American naval officer in Washington City told the author that it was a common thing for officers on an American man-of-war to swing the hammock of the sailor or middy whom they disliked, where he would have all the damp and cold, ending in consumption and death.  If this be true, it is far more brutal than flogging.  Congressional investigations are usually farces.  Congressmen place their friends in the army and navy, and their investigations usually result in the triumph of their friends.

For several days, Sukey was too ill to leave his hammock.  “I don’t want to get well,” the poor boy said.  “I want to die.  I never want to see home or mother again after that.”

“Faith, me lad, live but to kill the d—–­d captain,” suggested Terrence.

“I would live a thousand years to do that.”

There was a negro named Job on the vessel, who was a cook.  He early formed a liking for the three.  He stole the choicest dainties from the officers’ table for the sick youth.

“I ain’t no Britisher,” he declared.  “Dar ain’t no Angler Saxon blood in dese veins, honey, an’ I thank de good Lawd for dat.  I know what it am to be flogged.  Golly, dey flog dis chile twice already.  Nex’ time, I spect dat sumfin’ am a-gwine to happen.”

“When and where were you impressed?” Fernando asked.

“I war wid Cap’n Parson on de Dover, den de Sea Wing came, an’ de leftenant swear dis chile am a Britisher, and he tuk me away.  Den me an’ Massa St. Mark, de gunner, were transferred to de Macedonian.”

Sukey was sullen and melancholy.  A few days after he was on duty, he breathed a threat against Captain Snipes.  A tall, fine-looking sailor, who was known as the chief gunner, said: 

“Young man, keep your thoughts to yourself.  For heaven’s sake, don’t let the officers hear them!”

They were now in the vicinity of the West Indies and touched at Barbadoes.  While lying here, Fernando witnessed another act of British cruelty.  Tom Boseley, an American who had been impressed into the service of Great Britain deserted, but was pursued and brought back.  He was flogged and, on being released struck the captain, knocking him down.  For this act, he was tried by a “drumhead court martial” and sentenced to die.  Tom had a wife and children in New York, but was not permitted to write to them.  Only one prayer was granted, and that was that he might be shot instead of hung, and thrown into the sea.

Fernando, almost at the risk of his own life, visited Boseley the night before his execution.  He seemed indifferent to his fate, declaring it preferable to service on an English war ship.  “I would rather die a free man, than live a slave,” he declared.  Fernando asked if he would not rather live for his family.

“Oh!  Stevens, say nothing about my family to-night!”

He then requested him to take possession of some letters he would try to write and, if possible, send them.  Fernando said he would do so, and he then asked him to remain with him through the night.  This Fernando declared was impossible.  The young American was greatly weighed down by the terrible mental strain the whole affair had produced, and he had double duty to screen the unfortunate Sukey.