Before a light off-shore breeze the trim schooner slipped out of the cove, and, as the sun was sinking behind the snow-capped Olympic mountains, gained the waters of the Strait of Fuca, through which she would reach the open sea.
While Phil stood gazing at the fast-fading land, feeling a little homesick and lonely, Jalap Coombs informed him that the captain wished him to bring his things aft into the cabin.
As the lad had not seen his recently acquired outfit since coming aboard, he had nothing to carry, and so entered the cabin with empty hands.
“Where is your rifle?” demanded the captain, as soon as he appeared.
“I left it behind, sir.”
“What!” roared the other, springing to his feet with every appearance of violent rage. “Left it behind? Cheated me out of a first-class rifle? Never mind; it shall be charged to your account.” Then, working himself into an increase of passion, he bellowed: “You young villain! I’ve a mind to brain you for this,” and seizing a stool from the floor, he lifted it threateningly, at the same time taking a step forward.
Phil’s first impulse was to fly from the presence of one whom he had every reason to believe a madman. On second thoughts he turned, and, with a very pale face but a steady voice, said: “You don’t dare do it. You are a coward, and you know it as well as I do.”
For the first time in all his sea-going life big, red-faced, bullying Captain Duff was bearded in his own den, and that by a mere slip of a boy, as he regarded the lad now so boldly confronting him. He was a coward at heart, and he knew it. His very air of bluster and bravado, assumed so long ago that it had become a second nature, was worn solely for the purpose of misleading his associates, and hiding from them his true character. This manner was so well borne out by his size and his ferocious expression that until this time he had succeeded in inspiring awe merely by noise and aspect. Now his true character was known, the fraud he had perpetrated so successfully and so long was discovered, and like a great gorgeous soap-bubble his inflated wind-bag of bravery had been pricked and dissipated.
The collapse of this roaring pretence was so sudden and complete as to be staggering. For a moment the man stood motionless, with the stool still uplifted, but with every vestige of color fled from his ordinarily crimson face. Then the stool dropped to the floor with a crash, and he tottered limply backward into the huge arm-chair that he had occupied when Phil entered the cabin. His eyes rolled, his breath came in gasps, and a hoarse rattling issued from his throat.
During this extraordinary scene Phil stood his ground, outwardly calm and resolute, but wondering whether he was to be eaten or skinned alive for his audacity. At length, realizing that the enemy was powerless for the time being, he left the cabin, and reported to the mate on deck that he believed Captain Duff was having a fit, and needed attention.