At last Beauty made some cool observation which set him half wild.
"Tumble on deck," he then bellowed--"come, up with you, or I'll jump down and make you." The carpenter begged him to go about it at once.
No sooner said than done: prudence forgotten, Jermin was there; and by a sort of instinct, had his man by the throat before he could well see him.

One of the men now made a rush at him, but the rest dragged him off, protesting that they should have fair play.
"Now come on deck," shouted the mate, struggling like a good fellow to hold the carpenter fast.
"Take me there," was the dogged answer, and Beauty wriggled about in the nervous grasp of the other like a couple of yards of boa-constrictor.
His assailant now undertook to make him up into a compact bundle, the more easily to transport him.

While thus occupied, Beauty got his arms loose, and threw him over backward.

But Jermin quickly recovered himself, when for a time they had it every way, dragging each other about, bumping their heads against the projecting beams, and returning each other's blows the first favourable opportunity that offered.

Unfortunately, Jermin at last slipped and fell; his foe seating himself on his chest, and keeping him down.