Part 39 (1/2)
He said no more then. When breakfast was ready, Peter relieved him at the helm, and he went below. I heard him talking to Marian, and she answered him with spirit. Though I could not distinguish her words, I was sure that she was protesting against his cruelty to me. In about half an hour he returned to the helm again, and my fair cousin followed him, either with or without his permission.
”How do you feel, Phil?” she asked, taking her place by my side again, and bathing my head with spirits, as before.
”I think my head feels a little better.”
”Do you rest easily now?”
”Not very; I have to lie upon my hands or one of my arms.”
”Mr. Whippleton, if you are not a brute, you will untie his hands,” she continued, appealing to the skipper.
”Then I am a brute,” he answered, with a coa.r.s.e grin.
”Why should you compel him to suffer pain?”
”I hope it will make him change his tone. He is as saucy and as impudent as though he were the victor and I the vanquished.”
”He will not be impudent again, if you will unloose him,” added Marian, in a gentle, pleading tone.
”Will he promise it?”
”You will--won't you, Philip?”
”I will promise not to say anything to him,” I replied.
”He is willing to promise,” continued she.
”Then I won't let him loose. He is an obstinate mule, and ready to kick the one who does him a favor. Though I have been his best friend in Chicago, he volunteers to hunt me down like a wild beast. He has his reward.”
”But what are you going to do with him?” inquired Marian.
”I intend to shoot him,” replied Mr. Whippleton, as he took a draught from his bottle, and then produced a revolver, with which he toyed as though it had been a pet plaything. ”I am prepared for the worst, and I shall never be safe while he is above the sod.”
”Would you be a murderer?” asked Marian, with horror.
”Phil says I would, and I may be obliged to verify his words.”
”I did not think you were such a monster!” exclaimed my fair companion, with a shudder.
”I did not think so myself; but Phil keeps goading me on, and I don't know what I may become. If he had minded his own business, and not troubled himself about mine, he would have been safe in Chicago to-day.”
”But you don't mean to kill him?”
”That will depend upon himself--and you.”
”Upon me?”
”Yes, upon you, in part.”
”What shall I do?”