Planting myself again before him, I demanded in a louder tone, "What
do you mean to do with me?"
Words seemed almost ready to burst from his lips, which he compressed
with visible irritation. As though to check his speech he turned his
head aside. His hand touched a regulator of some sort, and the
machine rapidly increased its speed.
Anger almost mastered me. I wanted to cry out "So be it! Keep your
silence! I know who you are, just as I know your machine, recognized
at Madison, at Boston, at Lake Kirdall. Yes; it is you, who have
rushed so recklessly over our roads, our seas and our lakes! Your
boat is the 'Terror' and you her commander, wrote that letter to the
government. It is you who fancy you can fight the entire world. You,
who call yourself the Master of the World!"
And how could he have denied it! I saw at that moment the famous
initials inscribed upon the helm!
Fortunately I restrained myself; and despairing of getting any
response to my questions, I returned to my seat near the hatchway of
my cabin.
For long hours, I patiently watched the horizon in the hope that land
would soon appear. Yes, I sat waiting! For I was reduced to that!
Waiting! No doubt, before the day closed, the "Terror" must reach the
end of Lake Erie, since she continued her course steadily to the
northeast.
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