Whether it was my desire to live in order to revenge myself upon this felon, Benson, or whether it was the thought of staying and doing what I could for the girl, that swayed me most, I leave people to judge for themselves. I will admit that these two ideas were the only ones in my head at the time, but I cannot honestly recall which of them governed me the most. I know that I never wished to live, before or since, with the desire that came upon me at that moment.
Thoughts come rapidly to a man used to emergencies, and I made up my mind what to do before O’Toole had ceased speaking.
I saw the light in Benson’s eyes when he turned his gaze toward the second mate. Although the matted beard he wore partly covered the smiling movement of the convict’s mouth, I felt that he had passed sentence on O’Toole at that glance. He remained perfectly quiet, however, and awaited my answer. I know that some people have said that men, such as Crojack, O’Toole, and myself, ought to have given better account of ourselves in a fight where we knew it was almost certain death to be beaten. But we were not story-book heroes. We were just plain sailor-men.
There were only three convicts killed in the fight and four wounded. Three of these latter had the unmistakable marks of the second mate’s belaying-pin on their heads.
With the exception of the big-shouldered German sailor in my watch, the men had offered no resistance whatever. This one man had made some show of resistance when cornered under the t’gallant fo’castle, but he was quickly overpowered.
O’Toole and myself were strong men, but what did that count for in such a crowd. Crojack and Brown had defended the quarter-deck until they were shot down and overpowered. They were but two against fifty.
I knew that every man of our crew who would not join would walk the plank long before daylight.
There had been no unnecessary noise about it. The deep, sullen murmur of angry voices forward, followed by splashes alongside, told plainer than words what Benson meant to do with us unless we joined him in his crime.
I knew, also, that he would not suspect the feeling I bore toward his poor victim left in the captain’s cabin, and if I stayed, I might watch for my chance for either rescue or revenge. Even if rescue were out of the question, I felt that nothing could save the villain’s life, should I once again be free.
Therefore, I looked him straight in the eyes and answered: