There were only the two men left to watch us in there of this gang, and he glanced quickly at them and then at us.
Then he took a key from his pocket, opened the door of the captain’s stateroom, and entered there alone.
In a few moments I heard a piteous cry, followed by the noise of a slight scuffle. Then all was quiet. Something seemed to swell within me as if my whole life or spirit was striving to burst forth from my lashed body. I remember that I suddenly found myself with my mouth open, gasping for breath. Then I strained every nerve and sinew to start my lashings. I saw nothing, but felt a strand of rope give slightly. Steadily I kept the strain until it seemed as if I was losing consciousness. Then I felt the rope part across my chest and I forced one arm free. The next instant the two men were upon me.
They were powerful men. I struggled and fought fiercely in the vain effort to free myself, but the coils wrapped me closely from my shoulders to my ankles. I bent and doubled and struck out savagely with my free arm. But it was no use.
They pinned me down and soon had another turn around my arm and I lay helpless. One of the villains, however, got his hand too near my mouth and I cut the thumb from it with my teeth as clean as if done with a knife. Then something crashed upon my head and a great flame burned before my eyes. The struggle was over.
When I regained consciousness from the blow, an hour or two afterward, the blood was running from my nose and mouth in a thin stream. A hurricane roared in my ears, but I could see objects distinctly. The red fluid ran down the deck seams and trickled on to O’Toole’s cheek, rousing him as it became cold. I remember watching it with a feeling of indifference, except that I hoped it would continue to run.
Benson came out of the stateroom and stood languidly resting his elbow against the bulkhead. His face wore a devilish smile and his dark eyes looked straight and steadily into mine. His shirt was open at the front and I recall the smooth white skin of his neck. I watched him closely and hoped he would come near enough to me. If he had, bound and lashed as I was, I should have killed him with my teeth. I was breathing hard, but otherwise I was cool and collected. “You are the mate,” said the convict leader in a low, even tone, still looking me in the eye and smiling.
O’Toole moved his head slightly and I saw that he was aware of what the man was saying.
“I’ll give you three men the choice of joining or leaving,” went on Benson. “You will have to navigate the ship to where we want to go. What is it, stay or leave?”
“Me friend,” said O’Toole in a strained voice, “ye cannot expect me ter spake with th’ rope a-cuttin’ through me. I can’t think av th’ proposition till ye’ll loosen a few turns av th’ gaskets about me wind.”