He stepped off through the trees in the direction of the shelter on the beach, leaving Harrigan to throw himself upon the ground in a paroxysm of shame and hate.
But McTee, with hope to spur him on—a vague hope; a thought half formed and therefore doubly delightful—went with great strides until he came to Kate where she sat tending the fire. He broke at once into the heart of his question.
"I met Harrigan. He's changed. Something has happened. Tell me what it is. He says you know."
He crouched close to her, intent and eager, his eyes ready to read a thousand meanings into the very lowering of her lashes; but she let her glance rove past him.
"Well?" he asked impatiently.
"It is hard to speak of it."
Cold doubt fell upon the captain; he moistened his lips before he spoke.
"Hit straight from the shoulder. There's something between you and the
Irishman?"
She dropped a hand over his mighty fist.
"After all, you are our only friend, Angus. Why shouldn't you know?"