“Really, sir,” said he, “this does seem rather too much of the monkey.  Here are no fewer than three persons in my list from bites of this infernal beast.”

“Three!” I exclaimed, and straightway got angry, partly at my own folly, partly at the perversity of my pet, and also somewhat nettled by the tone not very unreasonably assumed by the doctor.  “Send Black, the quarter-master, here directly.”  He soon came.

“Don’t you take care of the monkey?” I asked.

“Yes, sir, I do.  You gave me charge of him.”

“Well! and why don’t you prevent his biting the people?”

“I can’t prevent him, sir.”

“No!  Then throw him overboard!” I cried—­“over with him at once!  There he stands, in charge of the corporal and two marines; pitch him right over the lee-gangway.  I will not have the ship’s company killed and wounded at this rate.  Over with him, I say!”

The quarter-master moved off to the lee-gangway, and took the terrified animal in his arms; while, on its part, the poor creature seemed conscious of its approaching fate, and spread out its arms over the seaman’s bare breast, as if to supplicate his mercy.  The old sailor, who looked mightily as if he were going to melt upon the occasion, cast a petitioning glance to windward every now and then from under the edge of his straw hat, as I paced up and down the deck, still fuming away at the doctor’s demi-official reproach.  As I saw the fellow wished to say something, I at length asked him whether he had any proposal to make respecting his wicked and troublesome pet.  The old man’s face brightened up with this prospect of a respite for his favourite; and, after humming and hawing for a minute, he said,—­

“It is all owing to these two great teeth, sir; if they were out, he would be as harmless as any lamb.”

“I tell you what it is,” I replied, catching at this suggestion, “I positively will not have the whole ship’s company driven one after another into the sick list by your confounded monkey; but if you choose to draw those wild-boar tusks of his, you may let him live.”

Few reprieves were ever hailed at the foot of the gallows with more joy by the friends of a felon than this announcement of a commutation of Mr. St. Jago’s sentence was received by his affectionate companions.  Even the marines, though constitutionally predisposed against him, were glad of the change; and I heard the sentry at the cabin door say, “I knew the captain had too much regard for the animal to do him an injury.”

Injury, indeed!  I question whether poor Jacko thought the alternative any favour.  At all events, his friends seemed grievously puzzled how to fulfil the conditions of his exemption from a watery grave; for I could perceive a council of war going on upon the lee side of the main deck, as to the best method of proceeding in the affair of the tusks.

“Who’ll hold the monkey?” said one.