blood than necessary, though. Merely flesh cuts. Bruised a bit, too! Help yourself to brandy. Good evening, Jerry; pleased to see you. Here's your poor schoolmaster got hurt. Feeling better, Captain? That's good. The sight of blood does turn one up. Was it Hannibal or Hamilcar who never could reconcile himself to the sight of blood? I forget. Some great general it was, though. The girl here is the same. Better, Imogene? Surely it was Hannibal, wasn't it?"
"I am sure I don't know, or care," thundered the captain, standing up and turning desperately on the bo'sun. "Job Mallet, what in hell's name is all this business? I'm dazed."
But Doctor Syn went on speaking in his usual collected tones: "It's all very horrible, I grant, but there's no mystery, I assure you. We were all three chatting here quite pleasantly, when in leaps that mulatto of yours, attacks my friend the schoolmaster and all but kills him. I picked up a bottle and landed the brute a crack over the head. The bottle broke, and the madman turned on me, clapped a bit of broken glass in my mouth, which I expect is cut about a bit, and got away. I asked the girl to hold the light, and when she saw the schoolmaster's face, why, over she went, candle and all, into a dead faint. Never saw such a thing in my life, but I tell you this, Captain: it's your bounden duty to get hold of that maniac and string him up to the nearest tree, for there's not a man, woman, or child safe while he's free."
