"O, I hope not," cried she, terrified at the tragedy of which she had become a part.
"Gorrificious!" howled Peter, who had been washing his eyes at the side, and was now able to use them again.
I picked up Mr. Whippleton's pistol, and returned to the standing-room, to guard against any attack on the part of the cook.
"Don't shoot me, Mr. Phil, don't!" cried he.
"I won't, if you behave yourself; but if you don't obey all my orders, I will put a bullet through your head. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you, Mr. Phil. 'Tain't none of my quarrel, and I don't care nothing at all about it. I obeys orders whoever is in command," he replied, rubbing his eyes with his handkerchief.
Skipper Whippleton a Prisoner.
Page 301.
With his aid I lifted the form of Mr. Whippleton from the cabin floor, and we bore it to the seat in the standing-room, where I had lain so many hours. The Marian had come up into the wind when the cook left the helm, and I put her about, heading her to the south-west. Miss Collingsby took the helm at my request. She was pale and excited; but she was firm. For my own part I felt like new man, and the new order of things seemed to soothe the pain I was still suffering.
I examined Mr. Whippleton very carefully again. I felt the beatings of his heart, and I was satisfied that he was not more severely injured than I had been.