"As for me, captain," I answered, "I did not know I was doing it. He struck me in my watch below; I wasn't on deck. I never was struck before in my life, not even as a boy. And when I have been aft, I never needed to. Of course, I'm sorry if I have killed him."
"You have," he responded mournfully. "We gave him sea burial at noon. Have you been aft?"
"As second mate in schooners. I am not a good navigator. My friend, here, my playmate, schoolmate, and townsman, is a graduate of Annapolis, and if you can get the jimjams out of him he can navigate; for, captain"—I looked him squarely in the face—"I understand your predicament."
"I will think," he answered, after a pause. "I will admit this, now—that you were both sorely provoked, and that I am sorry I shipped such mates. Like you, I never struck a blow or received one in all my going to sea. But I want to know how this young man mastered my second mate." He looked at Fred, still brushing his knees, and staring into the dark corners. The query was repeated before Fred answered.
"Oh," he said, as he raised his manacled hands, and pressed his fingers into his throat below the ears. "I did this. I've studied it, and when I felt his thumbs in my eyes I gave it to him. He will recover speech and breathing in time."
"Jiu jitsu, captain," I added, in explanation. "I've heard of the trick. They teach a great many things at Annapolis not down in the curriculum."
What the captain might have said in response was prevented by Fred's plea for a drink, and the sad-faced man withdrew, promising to send the steward.
Fred, tranquilized by a drink of whiskey and a large dose of bromide, was soon sound asleep; and a few moments later I followed him into the land of Nod, where I found the clawed monster and the clawless, headless, eyeless thing. I fought the former and fled from the latter, wakening at last from extremity of terror, with my clothing drenched with perspiration. Fred was still asleep, and I was satisfied to leave him so, and remain awake myself. Even then, with my limited knowledge of psychology, I remembered that I tried to puzzle out this strange bond of soul between this weakling and myself; but I could not solve the problem. All that I could formulate was that in my presence he could fight, and be a man; in my absence, or when unconscious, he was a sniveling whiner. As for the nightmares that came to me lately from contact with him, I had suffered from them before he was born. This was what stopped me; I could not understand this.
After supper, when Fred was awake, and more or less normal, we received another visit from the captain. He spoke first to me.
"You are a man of force and character," he said, "and of some education, I can see."