"A woman's love," went on the old buccaneer of the South Seas, "is stronger than armor plate to save the man she cares for. You can't see it; you could never see it! But I tell you there are times when the ghosts have come close to me, and then sometimes I've seen the shadows of thin, small hands come in front of me and push them back. The hands of Beatrice push them back, and they're helpless to harm me!" CHAPTER 27 But McTee wrenched his arms away and fled out on the deck. He blundered into Jerry Hovey, who started back at sight of him. "What's happened, sir?" asked the bos'n. "Been seein' ghosts?" "Damn you," growled McTee, "I had a nap and a bad dream--a hell of a nightmare." "You look it! You heard what Harrigan said? Does that sound as if I had enough backing?" "If the rest of them are as strong for it as Harrigan, it does." "As strong for it as Harrigan? Between you and me--just a whisper in your ear--I don't think Harrigan is half as strong for it as he talks. I don't trust him, somehow." "No?" "Look here," said the bos'n cautiously. "We hear there was once some trouble between you and Harrigan?" "Well?" "Would you waste much tune if somethin' was to happen to him--say in the middle of the night, silent and unexpected?" "I would not! Take him by the foot and heave him into the sea. Very good idea, Hovey. Is he getting the eyes of the lads too much?" Hovey fenced: "He's a landlubber, and he don't understand sea things. He's better out of the way." "How'll you do it?" asked McTee softly. "Speak out, Hovey. Would you try your own hand on Harrigan?" "Not me! I know a better way. There's one that's in the mutiny who has a hand as strong as mine--almost--and a foot as silent as the paw of a cat. I'll give him the tip." "And now for the details of the attack," said McTee, anxious not to lay too much stress upon the destruction of Harrigan. "Here it is," answered Hovey, and entered into an elaborate description of all their plans. McTee listened with faraway eyes. He heard the words, but he was thinking of the death of Harrigan. That invincible Irishman, after his talk with Hovey in front of the cabin of Kate, returned to the cool room of the chief engineer. The worthy Campbell, in wait for the ultimatum of White Henshaw, had been fortifying himself steadily with liquor, and by the middle of the afternoon he had reached a state in which he had no care for consequences; he would have defied all the powers upon earth and beyond it. The next morning, as he went up to his usual task of scrubbing the bridge, Harrigan thought he perceived a possible reason why his persecution was being neglected. It was the picture of McTee and Kate Malone leaning at the rail. McTee was content. There was no doubt of that. He leaned above Kate and talked seriously down into her face. Harrigan was mightily tempted to turn about and climb to the bridge from the other side of the deck, but he made himself march on and begin whistling a tune.