“Take her away,” commanded Brazzier, with difficulty repressing his anger at the repeated delay.
“Oh, Pomp! You won’t let him hurt the captain?” pleaded Inez, turning toward him, and ready to throw her arms about his dusky neck, were it not that she was afraid to leave the captain for the moment––he having risen to his feet, while he held her hand and looked at his enemies, panting from his own great exertion, though he did not speak a word.
Even in the dreadful peril which enveloped him, he was too proud to ask for mercy from such wretches.
But the appeal of Inez to Pomp had produced its effect. When she turned her misty eyes upon him, and pleaded in such piteous tones for mercy, the mouth of the huge African twitched, and any one could see that a hard struggle was going on within.
“If you don’t keep those bad men from hurting Captain Bergen,” she added, in the same impassioned manner, “I’ll never speak to you––never, never, never––there!”
This was accompanied by a stamp of her tiny foot, and then she burst into weeping––sobbing as if her heart would break.
Hyde Brazzier stood irresolute, and seemed on the point of leaping, knife in hand, upon the captain. But the prayer of the innocent child had settled the 112 question, and the sable Hercules sprang in front of the endangered man.
“Dis ’ere thing hab gone fur ’nough; let de cap’in alone. If dere’s any killin’ to be done, why I’m de one dat’s gwine to do it.”
The two mutineers were wild with fury, for this unexpected show of mercy promised to upset the whole scheme they had been hatching for weeks. Both Redvignez and Brazzier protested vehemently, seeking to show that it was imperatively necessary that both the officers should be put out of the way, and that since the mate was gone, it was the sheerest folly to allow the captain to remain.
But the words were thrown away.