? ? ? ? Wolf Larsen sprang on deck, and so swiftly that by the time we followed him he had pulled the steerage-slide over the drunken clamor and was on his way forward to close the forecastle scuttle. The fog, though it remained, had lifted high, where it obscured the stars and made the night quite black. Directly ahead of us I could see a bright red light and a white light, and I could hear the pulsing of a steamer's engines. Beyond a doubt it was the Macedonia.
? ? ? ? Wolf Larsen had returned to the poop, and we stood in a silent group, watching the lights rapidly cross our bow.
? ? ? ? 'Lucky for me he doesn't carry a search-light,' Wolf Larsen said.
? ? ? ? 'What if I should cry out loudly?' I queried in a whisper.
? ? ? ? 'It would be all up,' he answered.
? ? ? ? 'But have you thought upon what would immediately happen?'
? ? ? ? Before I had time to express any desire to know, he had me by the throat with his gorilla-grip, and by a faint quiver of the muscles- a hint, as it were- he suggested to me the twist that would surely have broken my neck.
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