Tom heard all that passed about his wife, but he "ate his heart," and showed no sign of his terrible torture.
Shever took a cat-o'-nine-tails' from under his jacket, walked to the left side of the prisoner, grasped the handle firmly in his right, and separated the cords with the fingers of his left hand; then with a rapid swish raised the weapon high above his head, and brought the cruel lashes savagely across the naked back of the helpless victim.
"Three!" and now a number of blue lines crept across the man's back.
"Four!" They changed to red, beaded with the blood of the poor wretch, who trembled, yet bore the pain without uttering a word.
"Five!" "Six!" "Seven!" What is that staining the boatswain's fingers? Blood, my Christian friends!
"Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" More blood! Think of that, parents who give your sons to the service of their country!
"Eleven!" Blood, which no longer stains the cat alone, for specks fly off and dot the blanched faces of the terror-stricken lads who had been so fiendishly stationed near by the gallant commander.
"Twelve!" called the ship's corporal, who then advanced and offered the trembling victim some water, which he refused.
Price, the boatswain's mate, now took up his position in the place vacated by Mr. Shever, and at the words, "Boatswain's mate, do your duty," laid on the lash with savage, nervous energy.
"One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Fire!" "Six!" The man's back showed a number of broad, blue lines, and two raw patches blushed upon his blade bones.
"Seven!" "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" "Eleven!" "Twelve!" The brandy with which the savage had been plied was doing its devil's work, and he seemed desirous of adding a thirteenth blow, but was stopped by the commander.
At the last stroke Clare threw back his head, and gasped for water, which was immediately supplied him by the ship's corporal.
The boatswain resumed his position; and now fully warmed to his work, lashed away at the shuddering mass with great ferocity. 'Twas no longer blood alone that clung to the cats, but at every stroke he stripped off more solid cuttings from poor humanity. See how the thirty-sixth lash has calmed the poor wretch! There was little sign of insubordination in the man when the ship's corporal sprinkled his face and held the water to his lips after the boatswain had retired.