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 days after the escape from the Thames and the sighting of the
Portsmouth fleet. Then all his revolutionary spirit ran riot in him.
Besides, the woman to whom he had become attached at the Nore had been
put ashore on the day Dyck gained control. It roused his enmity now.

When Dyck came down, he had the gunners called to him, admonishing them
that drill must go on steadily, and promising them good work to do. Then
he turned to the ordinary seamen.

At this moment Nick Swaine strode forward within a dozen feet of Dyck.