“You may think me a pirate,” said he; “but I know enough of the feelin’s of honest men to expect no mercy from those wot can laugh at a fellow-creetur in such an hour.  You had better get the murder over as soon as you can.  I am ready—­Stay! one moment more.  I had almost forgot it.  There’s a letter here that I want one o’ you to take charge of.  It’s the last I ever got from my Susan; and if I had taken her advice to let alone havin’ to do with all sandal-wood traders, I’d never ha’ bin in such a fix as I am this day.  I want to send it back to her with my blessin’ and a lock o’ my hair.  Is there an honest man among ye who’ll take in hand to do this for me?”

As he spoke, a young man, in a costume somewhat resembling that of a sailor, pushed through the crowd, leaped upon the deal table on which Jo stood, and removed the noose from his neck.

An exclamation of anger burst from those who surrounded the table; but a sound something like applause broke from the crowd, and restrained any attempt at violence.  The young man at the same time held up his hand, and asked leave to address them.

“Aye! aye! let’s hear what he has got to That’s it:  speak up, Dan!”

The youth, whose dark olive complexion proclaimed him to be a half-caste, and whose language showed that he had received at least the rudiments of education, stretched out his hand and said: 

“Friends, I do not stand here to interfere with justice.  Those who seek to give a pirate his just reward do well.  But there has been doubt in the minds of some that this man may not be a pirate.  His own word is of no value; but if I can bring forward anything to show that perhaps his word is true, then we have no right to hang him till we have given him a longer trial.”

“Hear! hear!” from the white men in the crowd, and “Ho! ho!” from the natives.

Meanwhile the young man, or Dan, as some one called him, turned to Bumpus and asked for the letter to which he had referred.  Being informed that it was in the inside pocket of his jacket, the youth put his hand in and drew it forth.

“May I read it?  Your life may depend on what I find here.”

“Sartinly,—­by all manner of means,” replied Jo, not a little surprised at the turn affairs were taking.

Dan opened and perused the epistle for a few minutes, during which intense silence was maintained in the crowd, as if they expected to hear the thoughts of the young man as they passed through his brain.

“Ha!  I thought so,” exclaimed Dan, looking up and again addressing the crowd.  “At the trial yesterday you heard this man say that he was engaged at San Francisco by Gascoyne on the 12th of April last, and that he believed the schooner to be a sandal-wood trader when he shipped.”

“Yes, yes,—­ho!” from the crowd.

“If this statement of his be true, then he was not a pirate when he shipped, and he has not had much time to become one between that time and this.  The letter which I hold in my hand proves the truth of this statement.  It is dated San Francisco, 11th April, and is written in a female hand.  Listen,—­I will read it; and you shall judge for yourselves.”