The sight of that post-
mortem cruelty recalled Carthew to the life of
instinct, and his revolver was in hand and he had aimed
and fired before he knew. The ear-bursting sound of
the report was accompanied by a yell of pain; the
colossus paused, swayed, tottered, and fell headlong on
the body of his victim.
In the instant silence that succeeded, the sound of
feet pounding on the deck and in the companion leaped
into hearing; and a face, that of the sailor Holdorsen,
appeared below the bulkheads in the cabin doorway.
Carthew shattered it with a second shot, for he was a
marksman.
"Pistols!" he cried, and charged at the companion,
Wicks at his heels, Tommy and Amalu following. They
trod the body of Holdorsen underfoot, and flew up-
stairs and forth into the dusky blaze of a sunset red
as blood. The numbers were still equal, but the Flying
Scuds dreamed not of defence, and fled with one accord
for the forecastle scuttle. Brown was first in flight;
he disappeared below unscathed; the Chinaman followed
head-foremost with a ball in his side; and the others
shinned into the rigging.
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