umb-nail-a permanent physical trait. "You
see, the government has pardoned all the sailors, and will hang only the
leaders. I expect Parker is hung already. Well, I'm the leader on the
Ariadne. I'm taking this ship straight to his majesty's West Indian
fleet, in thorough discipline, and I'll hand it over well-found,
well-manned, well-officered, on condition that all go free except
myself. I came aboard a common sailor, a quota man, a prison-bird,
penniless. Well, have I shown that I can run a ship? Have I learned the
game of control? During the weeks we've been at sea, bursting along,
have I proved myself?"

Michael smiled. "What did I say to you the first night on board, sir?
Didn't I say they'd make an officer of you when they found out what
brains you had? By St. Patrick, you've made yourself captain with the
good-will of all, and your iron hand has held the thing together. You've
got a great head, too, sir."

Dyck looked at him with a face in which the far future showed.

"Michael, I've been lucky. I've had good men about me. God only knows
what would have happened to me if the master hadn't been what he is--a
gentleman who knows his job-aye, a gentleman through and through! If he
had gone against me, Michael"--he flicked a finger to the sky--"well,
that much for my chances! I'd have been dropped overboard, or stabbed in
my cabin, as was that famous Captain Pigot, son of an admiral, who had
as much soul as you'd find in a stone-quarry. When two men had dropped
from the masts, hurrying to get down because of his threat that the last
man should be thrashed--when the two men lay smashed to pieces at his
feet, Pigot said: 'Heave the lubbers overboard.' That night, Michael,
the seamen rose, crept to his cabin, stabbed him to death, pitched his
body overboard, put his lieutenants to sea in open boats, and then ran
away to South America. Well, I've escaped that fate, because this was a
good ship, and all the officers knew their business, and did it without
cruelty. I've been well served. It was a great thing making the new
lieutenants from the midshipmen. There never was a better lot on board a
ship."

Michael's face clouded. "Sir, that's true. The new lieutenants have
done their work well, but them that's left behind in the midshipmen's
berth--do you think they're content? No, sir. The only spot on board
this ship where there lurks an active spirit against you is in the
midshipmen's berth. Mischief's there, and that's