The mutineer turned slowly at Sackett’s approach as though disdaining to show haste in defence.  Then, as the stout, bearded commander halted in front of him, he raised his head and gave forth that snort of contempt and annoyance which I knew to mean mischief.

“Captain Andrews,” said Sackett, “you will turn over your weapons to me, sir.  I don’t allow my officers to carry them aboard this ship.  Afterward I shall have to place you in arrest until you see fit to obey orders and show proper discipline, sir.”

“Now see here, my old fellow,” said Andrews, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ve obeyed orders here and will obey them when they don’t relate to what I shall eat or say at the table.  Don’t try any of your infernal monkey games on me, or you might get hurt.”

“Will you hand over your weapon, sir?” said Sackett, advancing, and standing close before him.

Andrews pulled out his long revolver and pointed it at the skipper’s head.  Then he gave a snort of anger and glared savagely at the Englishman.

Sackett turned to his men.

“Seize him, and disarm him,” he ordered.  But England and Daniels stood motionless.  Journegan stepped to one side to keep out of the line of fire.

Sackett made a move forward, as if to seize the weapon.  There was a sharp explosion, and both men disappeared for an instant in the spurt of smoke.  Then I saw Sackett stagger sidelong across the deck with the roll of the ship, and go down heavily upon the wheel gratings.  He uttered no word.  I ran to his side, and saw the ashy hue coming upon his ruddy face, and knew his time was short.  I heard the uproar of voices that followed the moment of silence after the shot, but took no heed.  Placing my hand under his head, I called for Jim to get some brandy from below.  Then I bawled for Chips and the rest to seize the murderer.

Sackett turned up his kind eyes to mine, and whispered:  “I’ll be dead in a few minutes, Mr. Rolling.  Do what you can for my men.  I tried to do my duty, sir, and I expect every honest man to do his.  Save my—­”

The light had gone out.  He was limp and dead on the deck of the ship he had tried so nobly to save.  My hand was wet with blood, and as I withdrew it, the wild abhorrence of the thing came upon me.

I stood up, and there, within ten feet of me, was that sneering ruffian standing coolly, with his pistol in his hand.

It was such a cold-blooded, horrible thing, done without warning, that I was speechless.  Chips stood near my side, cursing softly, and looking with fierce eyes at the assassin.  Jim came up the companionway, but saw that all was over.  My three sailors were like statues, Phillippi muttering unintelligibly.

For nearly a minute after the thing happened I stood there gazing at Andrews and the rest, paralyzed for action, but noting each and every movement of the men as though some movement on their part would give me a cue how to act.