Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. “But—your people!” she gasped. The crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming on, put them altogether to flight. That is good. He begged their attention for the next turn. There were swift actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost.
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