The mate called out in a loud voice: "Do you hear there below?
tumble up with you, one by one--now, mark that--and no grumbling!" It was some minutes before any one appeared:--at last an Englishman, who had shipped as a raw hand, came up, weeping piteously, and entreating the mate, in the most humble manner, to spare his life.
The only reply was a blow on the forehead from an axe.

The poor fellow fell to the deck without a groan, and the black cook lifted him up in his arms as he would a child, and tossed him deliberately into the sea.
Hearing the blow and the plunge of the body, the men below could now be induced to venture on deck neither by threats nor promises, until a proposition was made to smoke them out.

A general rush then ensued, and for a moment it seemed possible that the brig might be retaken.
The mutineers, however, succeeded at last in closing the forecastle effectually before more than six of their opponents could get up.
These six, finding themselves so greatly outnumbered and without arms, submitted after a brief struggle.

The mate gave them fair words--no doubt with a view of inducing those below to yield, for they had no difficulty in hearing all that was said on deck.

The result proved his sagacity, no less than his diabolical villainy.