“No, it’s you who are the coward, shamming being injured. Will you get up?”
“What,” he snarled, changing his manner again, “to fight with a miserable coward who is armed?”
“I’m not armed now,” I cried, snatching the revolver I carried from my belt, and laying it on Mr Preddle’s chest. “Get up, you miserable, cowardly, treacherous, shamming impostor! I’ll give you some physic which will do you more good than the doctor’s.”
As I spoke, I gave him a heavy push with my foot.
He sprang from the bunk as if he had been suddenly galvanised, made a rush at me, and struck out with all his force, but I darted on one side, and he struck the bulk-head with his fist.
“Poor fellow, how weak he is!” I said, as I stood on my guard, and writhing now with bodily as well as mental pain, he came at me looking almost diabolical.
I forgot everything the next moment—the nearness of the dangerously wounded captain, and the alarm that would be felt by Miss Denning, and with fists feeling like solid bone I sprang at him in turn. For I was in a strange state of exaltation. My nerves had been stirred by the excitement of the past days. I had been horribly imposed upon, and in place of my pity I now felt something very near akin to hate for my treacherous messmate, whom I had been ready, to forgive everything. I felt as if the most delightful thing in life would be to thrash him till he was in such a condition that he would be obliged to have the doctor to see to him and put him right—if he did not half-kill me instead, for he looked capable of doing it then. But this last did not occur to me, as I made my fists fly at his head, no round-about windmill blows, but straight-out shots right at his face, chest, anywhere I could see a chance to hit, though in the majority of cases I missed him, and received his blows instead.
But these did not seem to hurt, only excite me, and give me strength. They were like spurring to a horse; and as I hit out, my tongue was not idle, for I kept on taunting and gibing at him, asking if that one did not make him groan and this one did not need the doctor, while all the time he was perfectly silent, save that as he glared at me and fought savagely I could hear his teeth grinding together. He fought savagely, and so did I, for to use an old school-boy term, my monkey was up, and I was ready to keep on till I dropped.
Blows fell fast enough on both, and then we closed and wrestled and went down.
Then we were up, and crashing against the bulk-head on one side, then on the other. Then I sent him staggering against the door; and en revanche, as he recovered himself and came on again, he sent me heavily against the ship’s side, where the back of my head gave a sounding rap close to the little circular window.