"Done! Why disabled two men, unfitted them for work for a week at least, knocked two more into a cocked hat, and would have killed 'em if the whole crew hadn't seized you and took you below here and put you in irons!"
"Somebody has struck me," I said. "I've a wound on my head."
"A chap said he were obliged to do that or you'd a bin the death of him."
"Captain," I said, "you know the truth about this, and that I sought no quarrel; but now, now—if one of them dares to trifle with me I'll——"
"You won't have the chance, Tretheway, my boy. Every man jack of 'em declares they will not sail with you. They've all given warnin' unless you are dropped at the first port."
"Why?"
"Because they say you are not a man but a devil. They say yer eyes were red, and they see a flame a comin' from yer mouth as you fought, and although they're a bad lot I hain't got time to get a fresh crew to suit you, so you must either be left in irons until we get to London, or be dropped at Dover."
"I'll go to London," I said; "I may stand a better chance there."
The captain left me, and I was again alone. I did not feel at all excited, but a kind of despair possessed me. I was not at all surprised or annoyed at the men. I felt that they were right. I should have done harm to them had I remained at liberty. I was not fit to have my irons knocked off. The spirit of hatred possessed me, hatred that was dark and murderous, and hatred is the devil.
I spoke to no one during the time I remained on the vessel. I spoke not when the irons were knocked off my feet and hands by the captain. I climbed to the deck, and saw the men huddled together as if in fear, and I stood and watched them; then I looked and saw we were anchored in a great tidal river, and that London, great London, was on either side of me. Once it would have aroused all the enthusiasm and excitement of my nature. Now I was unmoved. I was about to leave the boat, when a thought struck me and I turned to the captain.