"Well, how was it, Mr. Bowman?" I asked, calling him by his last name with a handle to it, as I always did in the presence of the ship's company.
"A few minutes before I came upon the hurricane-deck, sir, I thought there was something like motion forward of the foremast. I stood up, but I could not see anything or anybody. But I could not get it out of my head that something was going on there. I spoke to Mr. Brickland about it, and he told me to go up and see what it was."
"Where was Mr. Brickland at that time?" demanded Cornwood.
"Mr. Bowman is answering my question, Mr. Cornwood, and you will not interfere," I interposed, for the Floridian appeared to have taken upon himself the duty of counsel for the octoroon.
"I beg your pardon, captain," replied Cornwood with a deferential bow.
"I went to the ladder on the starboard side, and mounted to this deck. As soon as I got up here, I saw Griffin lying flat on his face, with his right ear at the opening under the sash of the skylight. I slipped off my shoes, and crept as lightly as I could to the place where Griffin lay. I had no idea of attacking him, and only intended to see what he was doing there. As soon as I was satisfied that he was listening to the conversation between you and Mr. Washburn, which I could hear, though I could not tell what you said, I just touched him on the shoulder. I meant to beckon him to come away from the skylight, but he did not give me time to do that. He sprang to his feet, and we all know he is a spry fellow, and pitched into me as though I had tried to murder him."
"You lie!" yelled the octoroon, with a savage oath. "You did try to murder me!"
Griffin leaped from his recumbent position, and, foaming with rage, drew a bowie-knife from his pocket, the long blade of which he threw open with a jerk of his hand. With the knife gleaming in the air, he rushed upon Ben Bowman. He would surely have plunged the blade into his intended victim, if Buck Lingley had not darted upon him as soon as he saw the knife. The deckhand was the stoutest person on board, and he bore the octoroon to the deck in an instant, and wrenched the knife from his grasp.
"Hold on to him a moment, Buck!" I called to him. "Get some line, and tie him hand and foot!"
Hop Tossford sprang to obey my order. He seized the end of a heave-line, and while Buck drew the arms of the waiter behind him, he secured them in this position with the assistance of the mate. This line was only for temporary use; and Hop soon brought a handful of pieces of whale-line from the store-room, and the prisoner was carefully secured. The octoroon struggled to escape, but the mate and Buck held him tight.