There was no protest. McNab surreptitiously, while the others were in an argument, leaned over and patted him on the knee.
CHAPTER XXII
What Stover in his fuddled consciousness had said to little Wookey on that last wild night returned to him with doubled force in the white of the day. He had given his opponents the right to destroy all he had stood for by pointing to his own example. He had been a deserter from the cause, but the sound of the enemy's bugle had recalled him to the battle.
He took the first occasion to stop Le Baron, for he wanted the latter to make no mistake about him.
"Hugh, I was rude as the devil to you the other night," he said directly. "I was drunk—more than you had any idea. What I want you to know is this. You put the question right up to me. You've forced me to take my stand, and I've done it. You're all wrong on the argument, but I don't blame you. Only after this you'll never have the chance to fling that at me again. You and I'll never agree on things here, we're bound to be enemies, but I want to thank you for opening my eyes, putting it squarely up to me."
He left without waiting for an answer, having said what he wished to. For several days he kept by himself, taking long walks, disciplining the ship that had sailed so long in mutiny. Then he turned up in Regan's room, and holding out his hand, said:
"Well, Tom, it's over. How in blazes did you keep from telling me what you thought about me all this time?"