away from
the land.

The first thing Dyck had done, after escaping from the river, was to
study the wants of the Ariadne and make an estimate for the future with
Greenock, the master. He calculated they had food and water enough to
last for three months, even with liberal provisioning. Going among the
crew, he realized there was no depression among them; that they seemed
to care little where they were going. It was, however, quite clear they
wished to fight--to fight the foes of England.

He knew his task was a hard one, and that all efforts at discipline
would have dangers. He knew, also, that he could have no authority,
save personality and success. He set himself, therefore, to win the
confidence of Greenock and the crew, and he began discipline at once.
He knew that a reaction must come; that the crew, loose upon their own
trail, would come to regret the absence of official command. He realized
that many of them would wish to return to the fleet at the Nore, but
while the weather was good he did not fear serious trouble. The danger
would come in rough weather or on a becalmed sea.

They had passed Beachy Head in the mist. They had seen no battle-ship,
and had sighted no danger, as they made their way westward through the
Channel. There had been one moment of anxiety. That was when they passed
Portsmouth, and had seen in the far distance, to the right of them, the
mastheads of Admiral Gardner's fleet.

It was here that Dyck's orderly, Michael Clones, was useful. He brought
word of murmuring among the more brutish of the crew, that some of them
wished to join Gardner's fleet. At this news, Dyck went down among the
men. It was an unusual thing to do, but it brought matters to an issue.

Among the few dissatisfied sailors was one Nick Swaine, who had been
the cause of more trouble on the Ariadne than any other. He had a
quarrelsome mind; he had been influenced by the writings of Wolfe Tone,
the Irish rebel. One of the secrets of Dyck's control of the crew was
the fact that he was a gentleman, and was born in the ruling class, and
this was anathema to Nick Swaine. His view of democracy was ignorance
controlling ignorance.

By nature he was insolent, but under the system of control pursued by
the officers of the Ariadne, previous to the mutiny, he had not been
able to do much. The system had bound him down. He had been the slave of
habit, custom, and daily duty. His record, therefore, was fairly clean
until two day