Furled was her every other sail, leaving a clear view of the majestic lines of her hull, from towering stern castle to gilded beakhead that was aflash in the dazzling sunshine.
So leisurely an advance argued a master indifferently acquainted with these waters, who preferred to creep forward cautiously, sounding his way.

At her present rate of progress it would be an hour, perhaps, before she came to anchorage within the harbour.

And whilst the Colonel viewed her, admiring, perhaps, the gracious beauty of her, Pitt was hurried forward into the stockade, and clapped into the stocks that stood there ready for slaves who required correction.
Colonel Bishop followed him presently, with leisurely, rolling gait.
"A mutinous cur that shows his fangs to his master must learn good manners at the cost of a striped hide," was all he said before setting about his executioner's job.
That with his own hands he should do that which most men of his station would, out of self-respect, have relegated to one of the negroes, gives you the measure of the man's beastliness.

It was almost as if with relish, as if gratifying some feral instinct of cruelty, that he now lashed his victim about head and shoulders.

Soon his cane was reduced, to splinters by his violence.