The man was a tiger who would kill me with as little remorse as he would brush a mosquito from his cheek.

If I yielded, if I exhibited a willingness to fit into his plans, well and good.

But if I decided otherwise the jaws of the trap would close.

I did not care so much for myself--it would be a pleasure to defy him--but the memory of the girl was vivid.

What would happen to her, alone on this lawless ship, surrounded by the gang of wolves with which it was manned?
The thought sickened me.