Old Upjelly and his confederates were accustomed to do themselves well. I realised it as my eye fell upon the row of bottles—therein was much balm in Gilead. There was a long-necked one with "Boulestin" upon the label. I pulled out the cork at a venture and drank deep. It was just what I wanted. It was cognac, and my eyes cleared and my arms stopped trembling.
I do not suppose the whole affair had lasted for more than three minutes, and as I came to myself I realised the necessity for instant action. My late adversary was lying at the other end of the saloon, his head rocking in the open door which led to his own quarters. He was not unconscious. He frothed at the mouth like I once saw an old pike I caught with a spinner in the Broads. His eyes were red and glazed, and he breathed like a suction pump gone wrong. I saw he was harmless as far as further aggression went, but I thought it as well to make sure. I took the bottle and poured as much as I thought right into the chap's mouth. Then I snatched the cloth from the centre table, tore it into strips, rolled it up, and tied Master Fritz Schweitzer round the ankles. I pulled him to the wall and propped him up. I knew two of his ribs were broken, and I felt for his collar-bone. That, as it happened, was not broken. It did not matter much anyway if he died, though he was a long way from that. Still, we wanted him; so I took the cork out of the brandy bottle, wrapped it up in my handkerchief to make a sort of pad, shoved it in his mouth, and tied the end of the handkerchief round the back of his head. Then, when I had secured his hands, I felt we were getting on very well and I took a long breath.
I hurried up the companion-way to the deck. The keen night air, the still falling snow, made me sway for a moment like a drunken man. I heard a distant shout from the bank beyond, and with the shout was mingled a high, treble note. That pulled me together more than anything else, and I remembered what a perfect beast I had been not to let them know. Of course, they must have heard the shots and been in an agony of fright.
"Cheery-O!" I shouted. "Everything is all right, and I'll let down the bridge in a minute."
Then I stumbled aft to find my brother.
The fight in the cabin could not have been as long as I thought, for Bernard was just sitting up and rubbing his head. Incidentally, he was swearing sweet wardroom oaths to himself.
I forbear to reproduce them; they can only be indicated here.
"Help me up.... Have we made too much noise?... Have they heard us below?"
"That's all right, old soul," I said. "Feeling better now?"
"Don't talk so loud, you fool!" he hissed. "You'll spoil everything!"