my vessel half manned; and I vowed vengeance against him if ever I had an opportunity.  I now cruised as a pirate, and was very successful, and my name was a terror to those seas.  A high reward was offered for me, dead or alive, which pleased me much, and I became more murderous than ever.  Jack, all this rises up in judgment against me now; and I recollect every single life taken away by me, or by my orders, as well as if I had noted them down in a book.  May God forgive me!” continued Spicer, covering his eyes up for a time.

After a pause he continued:  “I had ordered a vessel with a valuable cargo to be taken on to a rendezvous we had in the Caicos; but it was recaptured and taken into Port Royal, Jamaica.  As the proofs of the piracy were well established, the men on board were thrown into prison to take their trial.  I heard of this, for I was often on shore in disguise in one island or another, and a scheme entered my head which I thought would benefit myself and wreak my vengeance upon Fitzgerald.  But I must leave off now.  Here comes the chaplain; he promised to talk with me this evening, and you see that I have changed my opinion on that point, praised be God for it.  Good-night, Jack; come to-morrow.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

     Spicer’s Death.

When I saw Spicer again he continued his narrative: 

“I told you that I was anxious to wreak my vengeance upon Fitzgerald, and the plan which I hit upon was as follows:  I contrived to get to Port Royal, and to speak to the two men whom I had been on the best of terms with.  I told them that the only chance of escape would be for them to give their names as those of James, which was mine, and of Fitzgerald, the first officer; and I explained to them why; because Fitzgerald and I had saved the life of the daughter of one of the chief planters, who, in gratitude, had promised that he would assist us if we were ever in difficulty.  I told them that they must adhere to what they said, as they would be condemned with the others, but that a reprieve would be given when they were on the scaffold.”

“But why should you have done this?” inquired I.

“First, because I wished people to believe that I was dead, that there might not be so great a hue and cry after me, and the temptation of so high a reward; next, because I knew that Fitzgerald was still in prison, and that his wife would read the account of his execution in the newspapers, which I hoped would break her heart, and so make him miserable.”

“Oh, Spicer, that was too cruel.”

“It was, but my plan succeeded.  The men gave our names, went to the scaffold expecting a reprieve, and were hanged.”

“And thus it is that your poor mother thinks even now that you were hanged,” said I.