“That gives you no right to have power over me, even if you had been married to my mother; which—”
“I was not.”
“I thank God; for marriage with you would have been even greater disgrace.”
“What!” cried Cain, starting up, seizing the young man by the neck, and lifting him off his seat as if he had been a puppet; “but no—I cannot forget your mother.” Cain released Francisco, and resumed his seat on the locker.
“As you please,” said Francisco, as soon as he had recovered himself; “it matters little whether I am brained by your own hand, or launched overboard as a meal for the sharks; it will be but one more murder.”
“Mad fool! why do you tempt me thus?” replied Cain, again starting up, and hastily quitting the cabin.
The altercation which we have just described was not unheard on deck, as the doors of the cabin were open, and the skylight removed to admit the air. The face of Cain was flushed as he ascended the ladder. He perceived his chief mate standing by the hatchway, and many of the men, who had been slumbering abaft, with their heads raised on their elbows, as if they had been listening to the conversation below.
“It will never do, sir,” said Hawkhurst, the mate, shaking his head.
“No,” replied the captain; “not if he were my own son. But what is to be done?—he knows no fear.”
Hawkhurst pointed to the entering port.