The man was startled; his head went back with a jerk, but his hands did not leave the other's throat. Wesley had to drag him back by the collar, and even then he did not relax his hold until the body had been lifted up into a sitting position. The moment the man's fingers were loosed the head fell back upon the sand.
Wesley threw himself between the two, and the instant that he turned upon the assailant he recognised John Bennet.
“Wretch!” he cried, “what is it that you would do? What is it that you have done—murderer?”
Bennet stared at him as if stupefied. Then he burst into a laugh, but stopped himself suddenly.
“Mr. Wesley, is it?” he cried. “Oh, sir, is't you indeed that pulls my hands off his throat? There is something for the Devil to laugh at in that.”
“Man, if you be a man and not a fiend, would you strangle one whom the sea has already drowned?” cried Wesley.
“I have the right,” shouted Bennet, “for he would be dead by now if I had not succoured him.”
“If it be true that you saved him from an imminent death, at that time, wherefore should you strive to murder him now?” said Wesley.
“I did not see his face then—it was dark when I stumbled on him. Only when I turned about when the dawn broke I saw who he was. Go your ways, Mr. Wesley. The man is mine by every law of fair play. Stand not between us, sir, or you shall suffer for it.”
“Monster, think you that I shall obey you while a breath remains in my body? I shall withstand you to the death, John Bennet; you shall have two murders laid at your door instead of one.”