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 remind him that my blood was pretty handy, because I had no weapon with me in my bunk more formidable than a pillow; so I lay quiet. He kept on stropping the razor, cursing to himself, and repeating that what his soul craved for was gore, for about ten minutes, then he suddenly hurled his weapon across the cabin, and rushed out just as he was. I skipped out of my berth with some alacrity, picked up my razor and locked it up; after which I felt rather safer, as I knew he had none of his own. Then I put on some clothes and went to look after the maniac; but, after searching all over the ship without success, I consoled myself with the thought that he had probably jumped overboard, and went to bed again. Next morning, when I awoke, I found my friend clothed and in his right mind, and thought I must have been suffering from night-mare; so I said nothing to him about what had occurred.

Ten or twelve days after this I was awakened in the middle of the night by some one clutching at my throat. I sprang up with a yell and struck out, fortunately hitting my assailant somewhere, and, as the ship happened to be rolling heavily, he lost his equilibrium and tumbled over. He was up again in a moment, and came at me brandishing a water bottle.

He said:—