‘Oh, dismal! ’Tis not to be borne! Ye moralists!
Ye talkers! What are all your precepts now?
Patience! Distraction! Blast the tyrant, blast him!
Avenging lightnings, snatch him hence, ye fiends!
Nature can bear no more.’
‘Seize that man!’ roared the doctor, who seemed instantly to understand what had come to the unhappy wretch.
But a man who goes on a sudden raving-mad is not very easily seized. This convict was immensely strong; his chest, bulk, and stature were assurance of that. All in a moment half a dozen prisoners were rolling upon the deck, beaten down by the madman’s fists and elbows as though they had been children. With agility that might be possible only to such madness as was in him, the man sprang, grasped the top of the barricade, and with a kick of his feet vaulted into the gangway between. He ran a few yards forward, sprang upon a scuttle-butt and gained the bulwarks, on which he stood erect, holding by nothing, swaying his fine figure with the movements of the ship, laughing the shocking laughter of madness and shaking his clenched fists at the poop.
‘Seize him!’ shrieked the doctor, nearly throwing me as he rushed to the poop-ladder.
‘Come down!’ roared the sentry on the forecastle, and the bayonet flashed as he swept his piece from his shoulder to level it.
‘Quick, or he’ll be overboard!’ bawled Captain Sutherland.