Many, eager to
obtain a good place, got on the booms to overlook the scene. Some were
laughing and chatting, others canvassing the case of the culprits. Some
maintaining sad, anxious countenance, or carrying a suppressed
indignation in their eyes. A few purposely kept behind, to avoid looking
on. In short, among three or four hundred men, there was every possible
shade of character. All the officers, midshipmen included, stood
together in a group on the starboard side of the mainmast. The first
lieutenant was a little in advance, and the surgeon, whose special duty
it was to be present at such times, stood close at his side. Presently
the captain came forward from his cabin and took his place in the centre
of the group, with a small paper in his hand. That paper was the daily
report of offenses, regularly laid upon his table every morning
or evening.
"Master-at-arms, bring up the prisoners," he said. A few moments
elapsed, during which the captain, now clothed in his most dreadful
attributes, fixed his eyes severely upon the crew, when suddenly a lane
formed through the crowd of seamen, and the prisoners advanced--the
master-at-arms, rattan in hand, on one side, and an armed marine on the
other,--and took up their stations at the mast.
"You, John, you, Richard, (Richard was Sukey) you Mark, you Antone,"
said the captain, "were yesterday found fighting on the gun-deck.
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