Once more the clenched fists went upward and he groaned.

He caught his breath once or twice and sobbed.

Then he was successful.

I could have thought him the old Wolf Larsen, and yet there was in his movements a vague suggestion of weakness and indecision.

He started for the companion-way, and stepped forward quite as I had been accustomed to see him do; and yet again, in his very walk, there seemed that suggestion of weakness and indecision.
I was now concerned with fear for myself.