CHAPTER XXXI
THE OPEN BOAT
Following the first impulse of this alarming discovery I pressed her back into the boat, and crouched low myself behind the protection of the flag locker. The fellow might not have seen us. How still it was; only the swish of water astern, and the continuous patter of rain. The pounding of my heart was like that of a trip hammer, as I listened intently for any movement. For a long moment of suspense there was none; then I heard his heavy step on the deck, as he came slowly forward around the bulge of the cabin. The very manner of his advance told me his uncertainty; something had occurred to arouse suspicion—he had heard a noise, or seen a shadow—and was investigating curiously. He came up to the stern rail, standing still, a huge bulk in the gloom, his gaze on the swinging boat. Then, unsatisfied, he leaned forward, and began to explore with one hand. Apparently he touched something strange; the edge of her skirt it must have been, for there was a bit of cloth in the lifted fingers. Noiselessly I arose to my feet, planting myself firmly on the wet deck. There was but one means of escape now, and big as the fellow was, I must accept the chance. Another minute would mean discovery, and his bull voice would roar the length of the ship. He neither saw, nor heard me, his whole attention concentrated on the boat. Without warning, putting every ounce of strength into the blow, I struck, landing square on the chin. There was a smothered groan, and he collapsed, hurled back bodily, his arms flung up. I heard him thud against the rail, his great form bending to the shock, and then he went over, whirling through the air.
The result was so sudden, so unexpected, as to be all accomplished before I realized its possibility. I saw him go down, blindly clawing with his hands at the open air, and yet it was more a delirium than a reality. There was no splash, no cry, and I leaned over the rail, rubbing my bruised knuckles, and staring down into the black void where the fellow had disappeared, scarcely believing the truth of what I had actually witnessed.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “What has happened?”
Her voice seemed to recall me instantly, to restore my numbed faculties.
“Why, really I hardly know,” I answered, yet stepping back to grip the ropes. “The fellow had hold of your dress, did n’t he?”
“Yes, oh! I was so frightened, and—and then he jerked me horribly.”
“That was when I hit him. I must have got the big brute just right. He fell back as if he had been pole-axed, crashed into the rail, and went overboard.”
She looked down into the swirl beneath, clutching the edge of the boat with her hands.
“Is—is he down there—in the water? Do you—you suppose he is drowned?”
“I don’t see what else he could be. I did n’t mean to kill him; just to knock him out, but I don’t believe he had any swim left by the time he hit the water.”