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- 10850
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z
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- 10784
- text
- would be a free man. And now, after making a hermit of myself in some
things, in order to avoid the possibility of the scourge, here it was
hanging over me for a thing utterly unforeseen, for a crime of which I
was as utterly innocent. But all that was as naught. I saw that my case
was hopeless; my solemn disclaimer was thrown in my teeth, and the
boatswain’s mate stood curling his fingers through the _cat_.
There are times when wild thoughts enter a man’s heart, when he seems
almost irresponsible for his act and his deed. The Captain stood on the
weather-side of the deck. Sideways, on an unobstructed line with him,
was the opening of the lee-gangway, where the side-ladders are
suspended in port. Nothing but a slight bit of sinnate-stuff served to
rail in this opening, which was cut right down to the level of the
Captain’s feet, showing the far sea beyond. I stood a little to
windward of him, and, though he was a large, powerful man, it was
certain that a sudden rush against him, along the slanting deck, would
infallibly pitch him headforemost into the ocean, though he who so
rushed must needs go over with him. My blood seemed clotting in my
veins; I felt icy cold at the tips of my fingers, and a dimness was
before my eyes. But through that dimness the boatswain’s mate, scourge
in hand, loomed like a giant, and Captain Claret, and the blue sea seen
through the opening at the gangway, showed with an awful vividness. I
cannot analyse my heart, though it then stood still within me. But the
thing that swayed me to my purpose was not altogether the thought that
Captain Claret was about to degrade me, and that I had taken an oath
with my soul that he should not. No, I felt my man’s manhood so
bottomless within me, that no word, no blow, no scourge of Captain
Claret could cut me deep enough for that. I but swung to an instinct in
me—the instinct diffused through all animated nature, the same that
prompts even a worm to turn under the heel. Locking souls-with him, I
meant to drag Captain Claret from this earthly tribunal of his to that
of Jehovah and let Him decide between us. No other way could I escape
the scourge.
Nature has not implanted any power in man that was not meant to be
exercised at times, though too often our powers have been abused. The
privilege, inborn and inalienable, that every man has of dying himself,
and inflicting death upon another, was not given to us without a
purpose. These are the last resources of an insulted and unendurable
existence.
“To the gratings, sir!” said Captain Claret; “do you hear?”
My eye was measuring the distance between him and the sea.
“Captain Claret,” said a voice advancing from the crowd. I turned to
see who this might be, that audaciously interposed at a juncture like
this. It was the same remarkably handsome and gentlemanly corporal of
marines, Colbrook, who has been previously alluded to, in the chapter
describing killing time in a man-of-war.
“I know that man,” said Colbrook, touching his cap, and speaking in a
mild, firm, but extremely deferential manner; “and I know that he would
not be found absent from his station, if he knew where it was.”
This speech was almost unprecedented. Seldom or never before had a
marine dared to speak to the Captain of a frigate in behalf of a seaman
at the mast. But there was something so unostentatiously commanding in
the calm manner of the man, that the Captain, though astounded, did not
in any way reprimand him. The very unusualness of his interference
seemed Colbrook’s protection.
Taking heart, perhaps, from Colbrook’s example, Jack Chase interposed,
and in a manly but carefully respectful manner, in substance repeated
the corporal’s remark, adding that he had never found me wanting in the
top.
- title
- Chunk 3