Jack could hear him bawling for the hands to come aft. He was in a tight corner, but he had no intention of quietly giving in to a swarm of Huns.
Strauss had threatened "to do him in". No doubt he, Villiers, had asked for it when he tackled the fellow. Perhaps it would have been better to have pretended to humour him, and then Strauss might have set him ashore at Las Palmas. But it was too late now. There was no averting the crisis.
For a brief instant Villiers considered the possibility of gaining the bridge and holding it against all corners, but the futility of that plan at once became apparent. He was unarmed; the crew of the Zug were not. Every man carried a sheath-knife, and possibly several had firearms as well.
Acting upon an inspiration, although he hardly knew why, Villiers dragged the missing attaché-case from the locker and ran on deck.
Captain Strauss was still shouting to the crew. He hardly expected Jack would dare to come out of the cabin. When he saw him he attempted to close.
With a pleasurable feeling that he was getting his own back for the sand-bagging affair, Villiers saw the burly German measure his length on the deck as the result of a straight left with the Englishman's fist. For the present Siegfried Strauss ceased to count in the unequal contest.
Three or four of the crew ran on with a rush. Villiers didn't stop to meet them. He was cool enough to realize, in the first sense of elation, that there are limits to human powers. Running aft, he paused only to unship a life-belt and hurl it overboard, then, with the leather case still grasped in his right hand, he leapt over the rail into the sea.
He hit the water with tremendous force, for the Zug was steaming at a good twelve knots. That and his still weak condition almost deprived him of breath. He swallowed a good half-pint of salt water before he rose spluttering to the surface.
Even while he was still under the surface Villiers found himself debating upon the wisdom of his rash act.
"If I hadn't jumped into the ditch," he soliloquized, "those fellows would have slung me in, and perhaps given me another tap on the head just to make things doubly sure. I told friend Strauss that I was good for a hundred yards. So I am at racing-speed. It is now up to me to see if I can cover four or five miles, hampered by a leather bag and a life-buoy."