In The Mutiny, William Harrison Ainsworth provides us with a tidy horror tale at sea. The writing is not as good as Running the Gauntlet, which I placed as the 40th greatest horror short story of 1800-1849, but enough horrific elements abound here to place the present story one notch better. In weighs in as the 39th best. Consider these sentences from the heart of the short story:
It now occurred to me, it was necessary the bodies should be thrown overboard. I took up one of them, dragged it to the side, and plunged it into the waves; but the dash of the heavy body into the sea, reminded me more forcibly of my loneliness. The sea was so calm, I could scarcely hear it ripple by the vessel's side. One by one I committed the bodies to their watery grave. At last my horrible task was finished.
Two days until Halloween!
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