nd
he grew fairly frantic when, glancing aside, he saw among them Dr.
Scudamore, who had spread out his surgical instruments on his knees, and
was gazing at him with a look of diabolical pleasure in his green eyes.
Turning from the captain he rushed directly at the surgeon.

"Oho, my good fellow, don't run overboard," said Barthelemy, barring his
way, upon which Moody, his face distorted by rage, again attacked him.
Barthelemy avoided the blow and pierced his right arm. The chief mate
instantly picked up his sword with his left hand; the foes again
confronted each other, breast to breast.

Then Barthelemy, with a clever trick of fence, struck his antagonist's
sword from his grasp and, setting his foot upon it, seized him by the
throat and flung him among his companions.

Scudamore officiously ran forward to aid the wounded man.

"Don't come here!" roared Moody hoarsely, "or I'll tear you to pieces
and put you on my wounds, as the ourang outang does leaves."

The chief mate would not allow his injuries to be bandaged, but though
bleeding profusely, struggled with his companions till they bound one
arm to a beam; and continued to strike about him with the injured one
till that too, was bound, after which he kicked violently and when his
feet were also tied, bit like a mad dog. They were obliged even to gag
him before the doctor could bandage his wounds, and stanch the blood.

"How bad the old gentleman's teeth are," said Scudamore, with a
malicious twinkle in his eyes. "We shall probably have to pull out some
of them."

Moody could make no reply to this hideous threat except a roar like a
wild beast's, and could not even bite the hand which the doctor passed
over him.

Meanwhile Barthelemy had had the brigantine's crew released and told
them that they would find all their weapons in the mate's cabin, whose
key he would give them when he left the Neptune.

With these words he approached Rolls, bowed courteously, and held out
his hand. After a short pause the latter clasped it, saying:

"Very well, I will take it, in the hope that we may meet again."

"I hope this will happen soon. A presentiment tells me that some day I
shall kill you in a victorious battle, Captain Rolls."

"And one tells me that I shall get you hung, Robert Barthelemy."

"I thank you for your kind intention. By the way, you have only one keg
of biscuits and a cask of water--that will not supply you until you
reach London. May I offer you s