He stopped in the midst of his ravings and drew himself
erect, a smile of infinite cruelty on his lips.
“Let them all come with their damned, empty
palms! They’re ghosts, and they cannot
stop me so long as I follow the small voice that’s
inside of me. They can’t stop me, and I’ll
win back to Beatrice. There I’m safe—safe!
Her hands are thin and light and cool and as fragrant
as flowers. She’ll lay them on my eyelids
and I’ll go to sleep! And the ghosts will
close their empty hands. Ha! McTee, d’you
know aught of the power of a woman’s love?”
He stepped close to the burly Scotchman.
“Keep off,” growled McTee. “I
want none of you! There’s poison in your
touch!”
He raised his hand like a guard, but two lean, thin
hands, incredibly strong, closed on his wrists.
“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!”
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.
