Of course it was a matter of a very few minutes. Boy human nature could not stand a prolongation of such a fierce struggle, even if our muscles were tense as so much elastic wood. And how that time passed I can hardly tell. I was conscious of seeing sparks, and then of Walters’ eyes and gleaming teeth which were very hard to my knuckles. So was his head, and the boards, and cabin-floor; but I fought on, and wrestled and went down, and got up again, and the fighting was soon in perfect silence as far as our lips were concerned, till after one desperate round—the last—I struck out so fiercely with my left, adding to it the whole weight of my body, that Walters fell back over the chest in one corner, his head struck the bulk-head with a sounding bang, and he went down in a sitting position, but in an instant sprang up again, grinding his teeth.
The cabin was nearly dark now and my fists were up for the renewal of the contest, for Walters seemed to be about to spring at me; but he drew back, and as quickly as I could grasp what it meant, I heard almost simultaneously the clicking of my pistol-lock, the report, and the crash caused by the sudden wrenching open of the cabin-door.
“Hurt?” cried Mr Brymer, as I staggered back, conscious of a sharp stinging pain at the side of my head; and as he spoke he sprang at Walters, wrested the pistol from him, and threw him down.
“I—I don’t know,” I stammered as I put my hand to my ear. “Yes, I think so,” for my fingers were wet with blood.
“You cowardly, treacherous hound!” cried the mate, with his foot upon Walters’ breast.
“I—oh don’t!—help!—I was only defending myself from Dale. I’m weak and hurt, and—”
“A cowardly, malingering liar!” cried Mr Frewen, hotly. “He tried to make me believe he was very bad, groaning and wincing, and thinking he had deceived me, but I saw through him all the time.”
“No, no, I am bad!” groaned Walters, piteously.
“He isn’t,” I said, with my anger against him mastering a sensation of sickness. “He was shamming; I found him out, and we quarrelled and fought, and as soon as he was beaten he caught up the pistol and fired at me.”
“It’s all a lie!” shouted Walters, fiercely. “I was so weak and ill that I—”