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“But maybe they want to hang them first? Or what if they’re going to hang us on the Hector?”

So we talked the night long, and God knows it was long. We considered every possibility, every conceivable reason for our separation from the others. And the minutes and the hours dragged by, and at last the darkness was suffused with the ashy light of dawn, through which the huge mass of the Brunswick grew more and more distinct.

Our guard was changed with the watch, at eight bells. No news came. One of the few prohibitions imposed upon us—and a quite just one—was that we should not speak to the guards, so we had no means of knowing what news was current on the ship. At nine o’clock, Morrison, who was standing by a port, turned and said, “They’ve run up the signal for punishment on the Brunswick.”

On all British ships, eleven o’clock in the morning was the hour for inflicting punishment. We had no doubt as to whom the Brunswick’s signal concerned. Ellison, Burkitt, and Millward had but two hours to live.