.

"You see the sacredness of our hospitality," I said bitterly to Maud
Brewster.

She nodded her head that she heard, and I noted in her face the signs of
the same sickness at sight or sound of violent struggle from which I had
suffered so severely during my first weeks on the _Ghost_.

"Wouldn't it be better if you went forward, say by the steerage
companion-way, until it is over?" I suggested.

She shook her head and gazed at me pitifully. She was not frightened,
but appalled, rather, at the human animality of it.

"You will understand," I took advantage of the opportunity to say,
"whatever part I take in what is going on and what is to come, that I am
compelled to take it--if you and I are ever to get out of this scrape
with our lives."

"It is not nice--for me," I added.

"I understand," she said, in a weak, far-away voice, and her eyes showed
me that she did understand.

The sounds from below soon died away. Then Wolf Larsen came alone on
deck. There was a slight flush under his bronze, but otherwise he bore
no signs of the battle.

"Send those two men aft, Mr. Van Weyden," he said.

I obeyed, and a minute or two later they stood before him. "Hoist in
your boat," he said to them. "Your hunter's decided to stay aboard
awhile and doesn't want it pounding alongside."

"Hoist in your boat, I said," he repeated, this time in sharper tones as
they hesitated to do his bidding.

"Who knows? you may have to sail with me for a time," he said, quite
softly, with a silken threat that belied the softness, as they moved
slowly to comply, "and we might as well start with a friendly
understanding. Lively now! Death Larsen makes you jump better than
that, and you know it!"

Their movements perceptibly quickened under his coaching, and as the boat
swung inboard I was sent forward to let go the jibs. Wolf Larsen, at the
wheel, directed the _Ghost_ after the _Macedonia's_ second weather boat.

Under way, and with nothing for the time being to do, I turned my
attention to the situation of the boats. The _Macedonia's_ third weather
boat was being attacked by two of ours, the fourth by our remaining
three; and the fifth, turn about, was taking a hand in the defence of its
nearest mate. The fight had opened at long distance, and the rifles were
cracking steadily. A quick, snappy sea was being kicked up by the wind,
a condition which prevented fine shooting; and now and again, as we drew
closer, we could see t