CHAPTER 6.
In the morning there was the usual task of scrubbing down the bridge.
The suds soaked through the bandages at once and burned his hands like fire.

He tore away the cloths and kept at his task, for he knew that if he refused to continue, he became by that act of disobedience a mutineer.
The fourth day was a long nightmare, but at the end of it Harrigan was still at his post.

That night the pain kept him awake.

For forty-eight hours he had not closed his eyes.

The next morning, as he prepared his bucket of suds and looked down at his blood-caked hands, the thought of surrender rose strongly for the first time.