The ringleader was a man named Gordon; who had incited the rest to the crime, and killed the captain with his own hand.  Obtaining command of the ship, they put her about, and commenced a piratical raid.  One vessel they succeeded in disarming, despoiling, and then leaving her to her fate.  But the next vessel they attacked proved a more formidable enemy, and there was a hand-to-hand struggle for the mastery, and for life or death.  The Morning Star was sunk, with the greater portion of her living freight.  A few, only some four or five, were saved by the other ship, and conveyed to England.

It was by them the dark tale was brought.  The second officer of the Morning Star was one of them; he had been compelled to dissemble and to appear to serve the mutinous band; the others were innocent passengers, whose lives had not been taken.  All agreed in one thing:  that Gordon, the ringleader, had in all probability escaped.  He had put off from the Morning Star, when she was sinking, in one of her best boats; he and some of his lawless helpmates, with a bag of biscuit, a cask of water, and a few bottles that probably contained rum.  Whether they succeeded in reaching a port or in getting picked up, was a question; but it was assumed they had done so.

The owners of the Morning Star, half paralyzed at the news of so daring and unusual an outrage, offered the large reward of five hundred pounds for the capture of George Gordon; and Government increased the offer by two hundred, making it seven in all.

Overwhelming tidings for Clerk Gum and his wife!  A brief season of agonized suspense ensued for the poor mother; of hopes and fears as to whether Willy was amongst the remnant saved; and then hope died away, for he did not come.

Once more, for the last time, Clerk Gum took a journey, not to London, but to Liverpool.  He succeeded in seeing the officer who had been saved; but he could give him no information.  He knew the names of the first-class passengers, but only a few of the second-class; and in that class Willy had most likely sailed.

The clerk described his son; and the officer thought he remembered him:  he had a good deal of gold on board, he said.  One of the passengers spoke more positively.  Yes, by Clerk Gum’s description, he was sure Willy Gum had been his fellow-passenger in the second cabin, though he did not recollect whether he had heard his name.  It seemed, looking back, that the passengers had hardly had time to become acquainted with each other’s names, he added.  He was sure it was the young man; of very light complexion, ready and rather loose (if Mr. Gum would excuse his saying so) in speech.  He had made thoroughly good hauls of gold at the last, and was going home to spend it.  He was the second killed, poor fellow; had risen up with a volley of oaths (excuses begged again) to defend the captain, and was struck down and killed.

Poor Jabez Gum gasped. Killed? was the gentleman sure?  Quite sure; and, moreover, he saw his body thrown overboard with the rest of the dead.  And the money—­the gold?  Jabez asked, when he had somewhat recovered himself.  The passenger laughed—­not at the poor father, but at the worse than useless question; gold and everything else on board the Morning Star had gone down with her to the bottom of the sea.