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We talked of the Pandora, the shipwreck, the voyage to Timor, and of those two monsters of inhumanity, Edwards and Parkin. Dr. Hamilton was no longer under the necessity of concealing his feelings concerning either of these men. Parkin he loathed, of course, but his opinion of Edwards was, naturally, more fair and just than my own.

“I quite understand your feeling toward him, Byam,” he said; “but the truth is that Edwards is not the beast you think him.”

“Have you forgotten the morning of the wreck, Doctor, when we were chained hand and foot until the very moment when the ship went down?” I asked. “That our lives were saved was due entirely to the humanity of Moulter, the boatswain’s mate. And have you forgotten how later, when we were on the sandbar, Edwards refused to give us a sail that was not in use, so that we might protect our naked bodies from the sun?”

“I agree with you there; that was cruelty of the monstrous sort; no excuse whatever can be made for it. But otherwise, Byam.... Well, you must remember the character of the man. He has a high sense of what he considers his duty, but not a grain of imagination—nothing remotely resembling what might be called uncommon sense. You will remember my telling you of his Admiralty instructions? He was ordered to confine his prisoners in such a manner as to preclude all possibility of escape, and at the same time to have a due regard for the preservation of their lives. Captains of the Edwards’ kind should never be given truly responsible positions; they are fitted to carry out only the letter and never the spirit of Admiralty orders. One can at least say this for him: he acted in accordance with what he considered his duty.”