It was to this natural law that Grant owed his life. Yoritomo, the captain of the junk, was a scoundrel at heart, but he had a wholesome regard for justice as meted out in Japan. A number of years spent on the penal farms had taught him discrimination.
While there he had witnessed—and even assisted at—several executions for murder, and the terror of the scene remained with him. A golden bribe offered by the Blacks had purchased his services in the abduction of Grant, but when Ralph, in his insane rage, called to him for assistance in throwing the lame youth into the sea, he peremptorily refused.
Instead, he called several sailors to his aid, and rescued Grant from Ralph's grasp.
"I'll permit of no murder on my junk," he said in Japanese. "You have paid me well to help you carry this fellow to the Bay of Sendai, and I will do it, but no violence, sir."
"What do you mean, dog?" shouted the discomfited youth. "How dare you interfere? If I wish to get rid of him I'll do so."
"Not on board this vessel," replied the captain, doggedly.
"I suppose you are afraid of your neck?" sneered Ralph.
"Yes, I am. I run enough danger as it is. How do we know that we were not seen in Yokohama? My craft is engaged in trade along the coast, and is well known. When your prisoner's absence is found out the authorities will secure a list of all shipping leaving the port on such a date. I will be suspected with the rest."
Ralph remained silent. A craven at heart, he would not have dared attack one physically able to offer resistance. The picture drawn by the captain was not pleasant. What if the truth should be discovered? It would mean disgrace and a long term in prison. And he had just contemplated a murder!
The punishment for such a crime is death. The youth shuddered at his narrow escape. He scowled at his prisoner, then stalked aft to the mean little cabin under the shadow of the wing-like sails.