And I noticed the boyish face of Harrison,--a good face once, but now a demon's,--convulsed with passion as he told the new-comers of the hell-ship they were in and shrieked curses upon the head of Wolf Larsen.
Wolf Larsen it was, always Wolf Larsen, enslaver and tormentor of men, a male Circe and these his swine, suffering brutes that grovelled before him and revolted only in drunkenness and in secrecy.

And was I, too, one of his swine?
I thought.

And Maud Brewster?
No! I ground my teeth in my anger and determination till the man I was attending winced under my hand and Oofty-Oofty looked at me with curiosity.

I felt endowed with a sudden strength.

What of my new-found love, I was a giant.