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My wounds had been carefully attended to, William Bludger had been taken on board, and I was surrounded by the kind faces of my benefactors, including the bishop's consort. My apologies for my somewhat sudden and unceremonious intrusion were cut short by the arrival of tea and a slight collation suitable for an invalid.
Him, however, they had treated hospitably, very unlike their contemplated behaviour to Bludger and me. I am obliged to make this historical digression that the reader may understand how it happened, under Providence, that we were not detected in passing through the town, and how Bludger successfully accomplished what, I fear, was by no means his first burglary.
Then I heard an unmistakably British voice cry, in a suppressed tone, "Hi!" The underwood rustled, and I beheld, to my astonishment, the form, the crawling and abject form, of William Bludger! Since the day of his landing we had never once met, William having been sent off to a distant part of the island.
I thought of throwing Bludger overboard, and sculling, but determined not to stain what might be my last moments with an act of selfishness. I therefore pulled hard for the open sea, but to no avail.
My impression is that, as all the sins of the year were, in their opinion, to be got rid of next day, and tossed into the sea with the ashes of Bludger and myself, the natives had made up their minds an eligible opportunity now presenting itself to be as wicked as they knew how. Alas! though I have not dwelt on this painful aspect of their character, they "knew how" only too well.
To my horror, the boat made no way, but kept spinning round. A glance in the bow showed me what was the matter: William Bludger was hopelessly intoxicated! He had got at the jars of wine in the chief's cellar, thalamos, they call it, and had not taken the precaution of mixing the liquor with water, as the natives invariably do when they drink.
They were making for their town, which was concealed from the view of the rapidly nearing steamer. From her mast I could now see, flaunting the slight breeze, the dear old Union Jack, and the banner of the Salvation Navy! My resolution was taken in a moment. Bludger had now recovered consciousness, and was picking up heart.
Ah, how often, in my reckless youth, have my serious aunts warned me that I "would be a goat at the last"! Too true, too true; now I was to be a scapegoat, to be driven forth, as these ignorant and strangely perverted people believed, with the sins of the community on my head, those sins which would, according to their miserable superstition, be expiated by the death, and consumed away by the burning, of myself and William Bludger!
"Hullo!" suddenly cried the speaker, whom I had recognized as William Bludger, one of the most depraved and regardless of the whole wicked crew of the Blackbird, "hullo, if here isn't old Captain Hymn-book!" a foolish nickname the sailors had given me.
"I speak the beggars' patter pretty well now," Bludger went on; "and I see Catharmata means more than just mere dirt. It means two unlucky devils." "William?" I exclaimed. "It means, saving your presence, two poor coves, as has no luck, like you and me, and that can be got rid of once a year, at an entertainment they call the Thargeelyah, I dunno why, a kind o' friendly lead.
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