“Won’t you be with me when it is done?” Boseley asked.  Money would not have tempted him to witness that sight; but he could not refuse the dying request.  He visited him early next morning and found him dressed in the best clothes his poor wardrobe could afford, a white shirt and black cravat.  He was a fine-looking man in features as well as stature.  As Fernando gazed on him he thought, “Dressed for eternity!”

The doomed man gave him three letters, which Fernando secreted about his person and subsequently sent to their destination.  Twelve marines were drawn as executioners.  Four muskets were loaded with balls and eight with blank cartridges.  Then the party went ashore.  Boseley bore up well until the woods were reached, where he found an open grave.  According to promise, Fernando went with him.  Captain Snipes accompanied the sergeant of the marines to see that the prisoner was properly executed.  He still stung under the blow he had received, and Boseley was slain more to gratify the vengeance of the captain than for any violated law.  A number of Boseley’s shipmates were permitted to come and witness the terrible scene.

The captain said to Boseley: 

“What is your distance?”

“Twelve steps.”

“Step off your ground,” added the captain.

“I cannot do it; you do it for me.”

“I will do it with you.”

The prisoner’s hands were tied behind his back, and the captain, taking his arm, walked him off twelve steps, as coolly as if they were only pacing the quarter-deck.  The captain then took a blanket, spread it on the ground and told Boseley to kneel on it, and he did so, facing his executioners.  The ship’s chaplain came and offered a prayer, after which the sergeant asked Boseley if he wished to have his eyes bandaged.

“No; I am not afraid to face my executioners,” he answered.  It was an intensely solemn occasion, and among all those hardy, rough-mannered sailors, there was not one, unless it was Captain Snipes, who was not deeply affected.  The captain’s face was flushed, and his breath was strong with brandy, and he seemed but little moved.

“Go ahead, and have this done with,” he said to the officer in charge of the affair.

“Are you quite ready now?” asked the sergeant.

“Yes,” was the answer in a faltering tone.

“Make ready!” and the twelve glittering muskets were leveled at this sacrifice to the wrath of Captain Snipes.

“Take aim!” and the gunners steadied themselves for the fatal word, to send a fellow being to eternity.