"Ah, Jack," he said, "I see you are hard at work. Work away. If you untie those knots you've got more skilful fingers than the one that tied them, that's all."
"Come and release me," said Charlie. "You have no right to keep me here."
"You are mistaken," said the mate, coolly. "I have the best of all rights."
"And what right is that?" demanded our hero.
"The right of power!" answered Randall. "Might makes right, perhaps you have heard."
"How long are you going to keep me here?" asked Charlie, after a pause.
"Till we get far enough out to sea to make it safe to release you."
Charlie kept silence. He felt that it would be useless to appeal to the mercy of the mate, who appeared bent upon carrying him away. He turned his face resolutely away from Randall, for whom he began to entertain a stronger feeling of dislike than he had supposed himself capable of feeling. Hitherto he had only been accustomed to an atmosphere of affection, and though he had met with some rebuffs in his daily search for employment, he could always return at night to a home and a mother, with whom he could forget whatever had been disagreeable during the day. Now his position was entirely changed. The only one he knew on board the vessel was one whom he had no reason to believe friendly, but very much the reverse.
By this time the noise upon deck, which he could hear plainly, had become greater and greater. He could hear frequent orders given by the captain, and also by the mate, who had now returned to his post.