“Well, sir, we all agreed the cap’n might ha’ showed more feelin’, specially as poor Eli’d broke the base of his skull an’ by eight bells handed in the number of his mess. Five or six of us talked it over, agreein’ as how ’twasn’ hardly human, an’ Eli such a good fellow, too, let alone bein’ a decent seaman. Whereby the notion came to me that as he’d come from Botusfleming—those bein’ his last words—back to Botusfleming he should go; an’ on that we cooked up a plot. Bill Adams bein’ on duty in the sick bay, there wasn’ no difficulty in sewin’ up a dummy in Eli’s place; an’ the dummy, sir, nex’ day we dooly committed to the deep,—as the sayin’ goes,—Cap’n Crang hisself readin’ the service. The real question was what to do with Eli. Whereby, the purser an’ me bein’ friends, I goes to him an’ says, ‘Look here,’ I says, ‘we’ll be paid off in ten days or so, an’ there’s a trifle o’ prize money, too. What price’ll you sell us a cask o’ the ship’s rum?—say a quarter-puncheon for choice?’ ‘What for?’ says he. ‘For shore-going purposes,’ says I; ‘Bill Adams an’ me got a use for it.’ ‘Well,’ says the purser,—a decent chap, an’ by name Wilkins,—’I’m an honest man,’ says he, ‘an’ to oblige a friend you shall have it at store valuation rate. An’ what’s more,’ says he, ‘I got the wind o’ your little game, an’ll do what I can to help it along, for I al’ays liked the deceased, an’ in my opinion Cap’n Crang behaved most unfeelin’. You tell Bill to bring the body to me, an’ there’ll be no more trouble about it till I hands you over the cask at Plymouth.’ Well, sir, the man was as good as his word. We smuggled the cask ashore last evenin’, an’ hid it in the woods this side o’ Mount Edgcumbe. This mornin’ we reshipped it, as you see. First along we intended no more than just to break the news to Eli’s mother an’ hand him over to her; but Bill reckoned that to hand him over, cask an’ all, would look careless; for, as he said, ‘’Twasn’t as if you could bury ’im in a cask.’ We allowed your reverence would draw the line at that, though we hadn’ the pleasure o’ knowin’ you then.”
“Yes,” agreed the parson, as Mr. Jope paused; “I fear it could not be done without scandal.”
“That’s just how Bill put it. ‘Well, then,’ says I, thinkin’ it over, ‘why not do the handsome while we’re about it? You an’ me ain’t the sort of men,’ I says, ‘to spoil the ship for a ha’porth o’ tar.’ ‘Certainly we ain’t,’ says Bill, ‘and we’ve done a lot for Eli,’ says I. ‘We have,’ says Bill. ‘Well, then,’ says I, ‘let’s put a coat o’ paint on the whole business an’ have him embalmed!’ Bill was enchanted.”