The pain was too great.

My biceps was being crushed to a pulp.
He seemed to recover himself, for a lucid gleam came into his eyes, and he relaxed his hold with a short laugh that was more like a growl.

I fell to the floor, feeling very faint, while he sat down, lighted a cigar, and watched me as a cat watches a mouse.

As I writhed about I could see in his eyes that curiosity I had so often noted, that wonder and perplexity, that questing, that everlasting query of his as to what it was all about.
I finally crawled to my feet and ascended the companion stairs.

Fair weather was over, and there was nothing left but to return to the galley.
My left arm was numb, as though paralysed, and days passed before I could use it, while weeks went by before the last stiffness and pain went out of it.