"Put—put a bullet through me first," he begged piteously, and turning about, scrambled, groping, into the stern-sheets.
He stood there throughout an eternity of a few seconds, head bent, shoulders heaving, hands hanging limp, and then, "For God's own sake—" he cried, in a dreadful, whimpering voice, that was suddenly stilled by a whip-like explosive crack as he pitched forward, headlong, out of the boat.
Sallie had darted, unnoticed, down the steps from the poop to where Jasper Slyne was standing in the background, nonchalantly looking on.
"Save him, Jasper—for my sake!" she beseeched of him, who alone had any influence with the old man.
"I will—if you'll promise to marry me," he whispered in answer, as if inspired to snatch at even such a precarious chance of placing her under that obligation to him, and, without waiting for any reply, he fired at the black fin beyond the boat, ran to the rail and plunged over the ship's side. Captain Dove swung around, snarling viciously, and struck at him as he passed.
The splash he made frightened the swarming sharks away for a moment or two. He came up close beside Hobson, seized him by the scruff of the neck, and, after a desperate struggle, succeeded in clambering into the boat. A white streak seemed to leap from the water and snapped and missed the second mate's helpless heels by an inch or two as Slyne, with a final, frantic effort, jerked him inboard and fell backward over a thwart.
Captain Dove stood glaring about him, speechless. Sallie had drawn back, unseen, in breathless suspense. But the old man said nothing at all, not even when Slyne stepped, spent and dripping, over the rail, with Hobson close behind crying like a child.
"I've no more time to waste on such tomfoolery," said the Emir then, angrily, "and no great taste for it, either, Captain Dove. So give me the girl now, and I'll be gone."
"Come below, for a minute," returned Captain Dove, in a strangled voice, mastering his pent rage with a very visible effort. "Come below for a minute till I send for her.
"Mr. Yoxall, you'll let Mr. Brasse know that we'll be starting in half an hour. Tell those men off in two watches, and send one lot below. Leave Da Costa in charge of the deck—you'll be rated as second mate, now, Da Costa, d'ye hear?—and turn in, yourself, Mr. Yoxall, till the morning watch."