McTee raised his head instantly, and, staring at the Irishman, he murmured a word to Kate, and she turned and regarded Harrigan with an almost painful curiosity. He was about to swagger past her when she shook off the detaining hand of McTee and ran to the Irishman. "Dan," she said eagerly, and laid a hand on his arm. "Come back, Kate," growled McTee. "You've promised me not to speak--" "Did you promise him not to speak with me again?" broke in Harrigan. "I only meant--" she began. "It's little I care what you meant," said the Irishman coldly, and he shook off her hand. "Go play with McTee. I want none of ye! After I've slaved for ye an' saved ye from God knows what, ye dare to turn and make them eyes cold and distant when ye look at me? Ah-h, get back to McTee! I'm through with ye!" She only insisted the more: "I _will_ speak to you, Dan!" "Come away, Kate," urged McTee, grinding his teeth. "Doesn't this prove what I told you?" "I don't care what it proves," she said hotly. "Dan, I've been thinking grisly things of you. I simply can't believe them now that I look you in the face." "Whisht!" said Harrigan, and his face was black. "Have you the right to doubt me?" She answered sadly: "I have, Dan." The Irishman turned slowly away and started up for the bridge without answer. As he went, he groaned beneath his breath: "Ochone! Ochone! She's heard!" He could not dream how she knew of the mutiny, but if it was carried through, he was damned in her eyes forever. What she guessed McTee must know. What McTee knew must be familiar to White Henshaw, yet Henshaw could not know, for if he did, the ring-leaders would be instantly clapped into irons. Once or twice he looked down from his work to Kate and McTee. They still leaned at the rail, talking seriously. And McTee was saying: "I have learned what I want to know. Every detail of the plot is in my hands. Now I am going to the cabin of White Henshaw and tell him everything. It's the simplest way. And you've started a suspicion in the mind of Harrigan. He'll spread the word to the rest of the mutineers, and they'll be on their watch against us." She made a little gesture of appeal. "I couldn't help speaking to him, Angus. Suspecting him of such a thing is like--is like suspecting myself!" "Let it go. It's done. Now I'm going up to see White Henshaw. The old man will be crazy when he hears it." He found the captain giving some orders to Salvain, and waited until they were alone. Then he said: "There are about ten of us against the rest of the crew of the ship. Can we hold them in case of a mutiny?" He had planned this laconic statement carefully, expecting to see Henshaw turn pale and stammer in terror. Instead, the captain regarded McTee with quietly contemplative eyes. "So," he murmured, "you've heard of the mutiny?" The tables were completely turned on the Scotchman. He gasped: "You have known all the time?"