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It
was
the
wolf
in
him
that
I
saw
,
and
a
mad
wolf
at
that
.
He
sprang
for
me
with
a
half-roar
,
gripping
my
arm
.
I
had
steeled
myself
to
brazen
it
out
,
though
I
was
trembling
inwardly
;
but
the
enormous
strength
of
the
man
was
too
much
for
my
fortitude
.
He
had
gripped
me
by
the
biceps
with
his
single
hand
,
and
when
that
grip
tightened
I
wilted
and
shrieked
aloud
.
My
feet
went
out
from
under
me
.
I
simply
could
not
stand
upright
and
endure
the
agony
.
The
muscles
refused
their
duty
.
The
pain
was
too
great
.
My
biceps
was
being
crushed
to
a
pulp
.
He
seemed
to
recover
himself
,
for
a
lucid
gleam
came
into
his
eyes
,
and
he
relaxed
his
hold
with
a
short
laugh
that
was
more
like
a
growl
.
I
fell
to
the
floor
,
feeling
very
faint
,
while
he
sat
down
,
lighted
a
cigar
,
and
watched
me
as
a
cat
watches
a
mouse
.
As
I
writhed
about
I
could
see
in
his
eyes
that
curiosity
I
had
so
often
noted
,
that
wonder
and
perplexity
,
that
questing
,
that
everlasting
query
of
his
as
to
what
it
was
all
about
.
I
finally
crawled
to
my
feet
and
ascended
the
companion
stairs
.
Fair
weather
was
over
,
and
there
was
nothing
left
but
to
return
to
the
galley
.
My
left
arm
was
numb
,
as
though
paralysed
,
and
days
passed
before
I
could
use
it
,
while
weeks
went
by
before
the
last
stiffness
and
pain
went
out
of
it
.
And
he
had
done
nothing
but
put
his
hand
upon
my
arm
and
squeeze
.
There
had
been
no
wrenching
or
jerking
.
He
had
just
closed
his
hand
with
a
steady
pressure
.
What
he
might
have
done
I
did
not
fully
realize
till
next
day
,
when
he
put
his
head
into
the
galley
,
and
,
as
a
sign
of
renewed
friendliness
,
asked
me
how
my
arm
was
getting
on
.
"
It
might
have
been
worse
,
"
he
smiled
.
I
was
peeling
potatoes
.
He
picked
one
up
from
the
pan
.
It
was
fair-sized
,
firm
,
and
unpeeled
.
He
closed
his
hand
upon
it
,
squeezed
,
and
the
potato
squirted
out
between
his
fingers
in
mushy
streams
.
The
pulpy
remnant
he
dropped
back
into
the
pan
and
turned
away
,
and
I
had
a
sharp
vision
of
how
it
might
have
fared
with
me
had
the
monster
put
his
real
strength
upon
me
.
But
the
three
days
'
rest
was
good
in
spite
of
it
all
,
for
it
had
given
my
knee
the
very
chance
it
needed
.
It
felt
much
better
,
the
swelling
had
materially
decreased
,
and
the
cap
seemed
descending
into
its
proper
place
.
Also
,
the
three
days
'
rest
brought
the
trouble
I
had
foreseen
.
It
was
plainly
Thomas
Mugridge
's
intention
to
make
me
pay
for
those
three
days
.
He
treated
me
vilely
,
cursed
me
continually
,
and
heaped
his
own
work
upon
me
.
He
even
ventured
to
raise
his
fist
to
me
,
but
I
was
becoming
animal-like
myself
,
and
I
snarled
in
his
face
so
terribly
that
it
must
have
frightened
him
back
.
It
is
no
pleasant
picture
I
can
conjure
up
of
myself
,
Humphrey
Van
Weyden
,
in
that
noisome
ship
's
galley
,
crouched
in
a
corner
over
my
task
,
my
face
raised
to
the
face
of
the
creature
about
to
strike
me
,
my
lips
lifted
and
snarling
like
a
dog
's
,
my
eyes
gleaming
with
fear
and
helplessness
and
the
courage
that
comes
of
fear
and
helplessness
.
I
do
not
like
the
picture
.
It
reminds
me
too
strongly
of
a
rat
in
a
trap
.
I
do
not
care
to
think
of
it
;
but
it
was
elective
,
for
the
threatened
blow
did
not
descend
.
Thomas
Mugridge
backed
away
,
glaring
as
hatefully
and
viciously
as
I
glared
.
A
pair
of
beasts
is
what
we
were
,
penned
together
and
showing
our
teeth
.
He
was
a
coward
,
afraid
to
strike
me
because
I
had
not
quailed
sufficiently
in
advance
;
so
he
chose
a
new
way
to
intimidate
me
.
There
was
only
one
galley
knife
that
,
as
a
knife
,
amounted
to
anything
.
This
,
through
many
years
of
service
and
wear
,
had
acquired
a
long
,
lean
blade
.
It
was
unusually
cruel-looking
,
and
at
first
I
had
shuddered
every
time
I
used
it
.
The
cook
borrowed
a
stone
from
Johansen
and
proceeded
to
sharpen
the
knife
.
He
did
it
with
great
ostentation
,
glancing
significantly
at
me
the
while
.
He
whetted
it
up
and
down
all
day
long
.
Every
odd
moment
he
could
find
he
had
the
knife
and
stone
out
and
was
whetting
away
.
The
steel
acquired
a
razor
edge
.
He
tried
it
with
the
ball
of
his
thumb
or
across
the
nail
.
He
shaved
hairs
from
the
back
of
his
hand
,
glanced
along
the
edge
with
microscopic
acuteness
,
and
found
,
or
feigned
that
he
found
,
always
,
a
slight
inequality
in
its
edge
somewhere
.
Then
he
would
put
it
on
the
stone
again
and
whet
,
whet
,
whet
,
till
I
could
have
laughed
aloud
,
it
was
so
very
ludicrous
.
