The suddenness of the attack and the catastrophe, the
instant change from peace to war, and from life to
death, held all men spellbound. Yet a moment they sat
about the table staring open-mouthed upon the prostrate
captain and the flowing blood. The next, Goddedaal had
leaped to his feet, caught up the stool on which he had
been sitting, and swung it high in air, a man
transfigured, roaring (as he stood) so that men's ears
were stunned with it. There was no thought of battle
in the Currency Lasses; none drew his weapon; all
huddled helplessly from before the face of the baresark
Scandinavian. His first blow sent Mac to ground with a
broken arm. His second dashed out the brains of
Hemstead. He turned from one to another, menacing and
trumpeting like a wounded elephant, exulting in his
rage. But there was no counsel, no light of reason, in
that ecstasy of battle; and he shied from the pursuit
of victory to hail fresh blows upon the supine
Hemstead, so that the stool was shattered and the cabin
rang with their violence.
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