He said no more then. When breakfast was ready, Peter relieved him at the helm, and he went below. I heard him talking to Marian, and she answered him with spirit. Though I could not distinguish her words, I was sure that she was protesting against his cruelty to me. In about half an hour he returned to the helm again, and my fair cousin followed him, either with or without his permission.
"How do you feel, Phil?" she asked, taking her place by my side again, and bathing my head with spirits, as before.
"I think my head feels a little better."
"Do you rest easily now?"
"Not very; I have to lie upon my hands or one of my arms."
"Mr. Whippleton, if you are not a brute, you will untie his hands," she continued, appealing to the skipper.
"Then I am a brute," he answered, with a coarse grin.
"Why should you compel him to suffer pain?"
"I hope it will make him change his tone. He is as saucy and as impudent as though he were the victor and I the vanquished."
"He will not be impudent again, if you will unloose him," added Marian, in a gentle, pleading tone.