"We cannot," he answered, "but you must pay no attention to anything that happens or to anything that is said to you by others. There are only two men on the _Heron_ whom you can trust--and here we are. But there may be wild happenings on the _Heron_. Keep your courage and trust in Angus McTee and--" "And Harrigan," broke in the Irishman quickly, with a glare at the captain. She reached an impulsive hand to both of them, and they met the clasp, keeping, as it were, one eye upon her and one eye of hate upon each other. She said, and her voice was low and musical with exultation: "I've no care what happens. I know we shall pull through safely. The three of us--Dan, Angus--we lived through the storm when the _Mary Rogers_ sank, we lived on the island and survived, we reached the _Heron_ in safety, and as long as we stay together, we'd be safe if the whole world were against us. Don't you feel it?" She rose, and they stood up, towering above her, while she went on in a voice trembling somewhat: "But we must not be seen together if all these dangers threaten us; they must not know that the three of us are like one great heart." They stepped back, and McTee pulled open the door, but still she retained their hands, and now she raised them both to her lips with a gesture so swift that they could not resist it. "Both of you," she said; "God bless you both!" CHAPTER 31 She released their hands; the door closed upon them; they stood facing each other on the deck in the dark. "McTee," said Harrigan with deep emotion, "we're swine. We were about to fight before--her." "Harrigan," said McTee, "we _are_ swine. But when the time comes, we'll make up for it to her. If you hear a word in the forecastle, let me know about it; if I hear a word in the captain's cabin, I'll send for you. I may be wrong. Henshaw may be in his right senses. We'll see. In the meantime there are just the two of us, Harrigan, and against us there's a mutinous crew on one side and a mad captain, I think, on the other." "There's no use in thinkin'," said Harrigan; "when the time comes, we'll fight. So long, Angus. When the trouble starts, our assemblin' point is Kate." And he went forward to the forecastle. In the morning he discovered what he wanted to know. The men were aloof from him. He was conscious of eyes upon him whenever his back was turned, but while he faced them, no one would meet his glance. In some way Hovey had learned that Harrigan was no longer to be trusted as a member of the mutineers, and he must have spread his tidings among the rest of the sailors. What he sensed in those covert glances, however, was not an immediate danger, but rather a waiting--an expectancy, and he deduced rightly that they would not attempt to lay a hand upon him until the mutiny was started. Then he would be reserved for some lingering death as a traitor doubly dyed.