All my wrongs and humiliations flashed upon me with a dazzling brightness, all that I had suffered and others had suffered at his hands, all the enormity of the man's very existence.

I sprang upon him, blindly, insanely, and drove the knife into his shoulder.

I knew, then, that it was no more than a flesh wound,--I had felt the steel grate on his shoulder-blade,--and I raised the knife to strike at a more vital part.
But Maud had seen my first blow, and she cried, "Don't! Please don't!" I dropped my arm for a moment, and a moment only.

Again the knife was raised, and Wolf Larsen would have surely died had she not stepped between.

Her arms were around me, her hair was brushing my face.