What other god than Salve, he once asked ironically, had prevented the Irishman from taking the life of the miserable Spaniard down there in the hold?
or what god other than Fear prevented the boatswain from felling Salve himself to the deck with a handspike?
Although Salve despised the speaker, his arguments made no slight impression upon him.

What god, he asked himself, would save him, if he did not take care of himself among all these ruffians who surrounded him?
and had there been any such controlling Power in the world, he thought with bitterness, a great deal in his life would have been very different.

Conversations of this kind always made him feel thoroughly bad.
"What do you suppose," he suddenly asked, one evening as they were talking together on their watch, "your sister meant to do with me, Federigo, if I had not escaped ?" Up to this they had avoided touching upon this tender subject, and Federigo answered, evasively-- "I'm sure I don't know.

She takes wild notions sometimes." "Yes--but what do you think?
I know you had no hand in the matter." "H'm! I had rather not say," replied Federigo, obviously relieved, but with a peculiar smile, as if his fancy was ranging not without enjoyment through the region of possibilities.

"She scalded a monkey once, that had bitten her, slowly to death with boiling-water.