surged up solidly around us as we stood there, and were regarding us with knotted brows and clenched fists. "Knock him down, boys, can't you? Just get me away from him, and I'll show—"
"Stand back!" I shouted, drawing my pistol. There was a movement of those next me, and a clear space was quickly made. "If any man attempts a rescue, I'll shoot him without a word."
And nobody did. I placed the two guards with their bayonets charged toward the crowd, ordering them to transfix the first man who should offer any interference; and then turning to Rolan, cocked my pistol, and peremptorily commanded him to mount to the deck. There was something in my voice, or in the muzzle of that pistol, that coerced him into obedience; he went up, still muttering, but not so loudly.
Again on deck, I stationed more guards at the hatch, and ordered the corporal on duty to go to the mate and borrow a pair of handcuffs. Rolan stood with his back to the rail, glowering at me beneath his sullen brows. He heard the order, saw the corporal start, and quickly asked:
"Do you mean them for me?"
I made no answer; I would have no more parleying. But my purpose had been from the first to handcuff, gag him, and tie him in the rigging. As I continued silent, he broke out with another torrent of oaths, defying me, and daring me to lay a hand on him. Lieutenant Hall said, in a low voice, which reached my ear only:
"The fellow is desperate; you must be on your guard. And Colonel, good heavens! look into the hold!"
I motioned one of the guard to stand between Rolan and myself, and threw a glance over my shoulder toward the hatch. The sight was enough to chill the blood of a Christian. The prisoners had crowded densely forward to the ladder, some with their hands resting on it, as if under an impulse to ascend, and filling the space as far back as the sides of the hatch permitted the eye to look. They were standing as closely together as it was possible for human beings to stand, many on tiptoe, their hands clenched, their eyes protruded; some with their mouths open, like wild beasts, and all glaring up at me with such a malignant expression as some of the old masters have contrived to throw into the pictured countenance of the Fiend.
"Look to the guard," I whispered to Hall. "Here are the shackles."
The corporal handed them to me. Rolan instantly dismissed his noisy, profane talk, folded his arms, and looked me straight in the eye.
"I warn you not to put those things on me," he said. "Remember—I warn you! You'll repent it if you do."
I continued perfectly calm; but the cool determination of the fellow's manner gave me a more vivid realization of danger than I had yet gained.
And I will tell you why I was cool: It was because I had been prepared two years for just such an emergency. In entering the service, I had resolved that I would be the last to take life in the enforcement of discipline, so long as the necessity could be avoided; but that when it became a necessity, I should not hesitate an instant. And I believe I realized to the full the peril that threatened me; I knew that Hall, the sergeant, and myself, might be disarmed and trampled down by a desperate rush of the prisoners upon us, even though we might kill half a dozen of them; and that when we were out of the way, they would have little difficulty in overcoming and disarming my feeble guard. And what
