"What, bayoneting him, sir?" said the man quietly.  "Well, no, sir, it's very odd, but I never have much.  I was so excited when I see him with his knife ashining by the light o' the corporal's lantern, that all the bayonet practice come to me quite natural like, and, as you know, I give point from the guard, and he jumped right on it, and I held him down after as you would a savage kind of tiger thing, and felt quite pleased like at having saved the first luff's life.  After you'd gone all the lads got talking about it, and I felt as proud as a peacock with ten tails.  And I got wondering, too, about what Mr Reardon would do, for he said he would see me again.  It was all very well then, but that night when I turned in I felt quite sick, and I couldn't sleep a wink. The more I turned about in my hammock, the hotter and worser I got. There it all was before me, I could see myself holding that pirate chap pinned down, and there was his eyes rolling and his teeth snapping as he twisted about.  Ugh! it was horrid, sir; and I felt as I was in for it, and began to understand what one has read about chaps as commits murder always being haunted like with thoughts of what they've done, and never being happy no more.  Then it got worse and worse, and I says to myself, `If it was as bad as that for just doing your duty, and saving your officer's life, what must it be when you kills a man out o' sheer wickedness to get his money?'"