That man, so entirely under self-control, then made a menacing gesture.
The novice drew a revolver from his pocket, and pointed it at the head
cook.
"Negoro," said he, "recollect that I am never without this revolver,
and that on the first act of insubordination I shall blow out your
brains!"
At that moment Negoro felt himself irresistibly bent to the deck.
It was Hercules, who had just simply laid his heavy hand on Negoro's
shoulder.
"Captain Sand," said the giant, "do you want me to throw this rascal
overboard? He will regale the fishes, who are not hard to please!"
"Not yet," replied Dick Sand.
Negoro rose as soon as the black's hand no longer weighed upon him.
But, in passing Hercules:
"Accursed negro," murmured he, "I'll pay you back!"
Meanwhile, the wind had just changed; at least, it seemed to have
veered round forty-five degrees. And, notwithstanding, a singular
thing, which struck the novice, nothing in the condition of the sea
indicated that change. The ship headed the same way all the time, but
the wind and the waves, instead of taking her directly aft, now struck
her by the larboard quarter--a very dangerous situation, which exposes
a ship to receive bad surges. So Dick Sand was obliged to veer round
four points to continue to scud before the tempest.
But, on the other hand, his attention was awakened more than ever.
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