I have since seen lunatics in the violent wards of asylums that seemed to behave in no wise different from Victor's way, save that perhaps he was more violent.

Axel and I interfered as peacemakers, were roughed and jostled in the mix-ups, and finally, with infinite precaution and intoxicated cunning, succeeded in inveigling our chum down to the boat and in rowing him aboard our schooner.
But no sooner did Victor's feet touch the deck than he began to clean up the ship.

He had the strength of several men, and he ran amuck with it.
I remember especially one man whom he got into the chain-boxes but failed to damage through inability to hit him.

The man dodged and ducked, and Victor broke all the knuckles of both his fists against the huge links of the anchor chain.

By the time we dragged him out of that, his madness had shifted to the belief that he was a great swimmer, and the next moment he was overboard and demonstrating his ability by floundering like a sick porpoise and swallowing much salt water.
We rescued him, and by the time we got him below, undressed, and into his bunk, we were wrecks ourselves.