dominant. At sea, a rebellion was like some beastly struggle in one
room, beyond the walls of which was everlasting nothingness. The thing
had to be fought out, as it were, man to man within four walls, and God
help the weaker!

"How many ships in the fleet are sworn to this agitation?" Dyck asked
presently.

"Every one. It's been like a spread of infection; it's entered at every
door, looked out of every window. All the ships are in it, from the
twenty-six-hundred-tonners to the little five-hundred-and-fifty-tonners.
Besides, there are the Delegates."

He lowered his voice as he used these last words. "Yes, I know," Dyck
answered, though he did not really know. "But who is at the head?"

"Why, as bold a man as can be--Richard Parker, an Irishman. He was once
a junior naval officer, and left the navy and went into business; now he
is a quotaman, and leads the mutiny. Let me tell you that unless there's
a good round answer to what we demand, the Nore fleet'll have it out with
the government. He's a man of character, is Richard Parker, and the
fleet'll stand by him."

"How long has he been at it?" asked Dyck.

"Oh, weeks and weeks! It doesn't all come at once, the grip of the
thing. It began at Spithead, and it worked right there; and now it's
workin' at the Nore, and it'll work and work until there isn't a ship and
there isn't a man that won't be behind the Delegates. Look. Half the
seamen on this ship have tasted the inside of a jail; and the rest come