Two things fought against it: his fierce pride and a certain awe which he had noted as it grew from day to day in the eyes of the rest of the crew.

They were following the silent battle between the great Irishman and the captain with a profound, an almost uncanny interest.
As he scrubbed the bridge that morning, McTee, as always, stood staring out across the bows, impassive, self-contained as a general overlooking a field of battle.

And the temptation to surrender swelled up in the throat of Harrigan like the desire for speech in a child.

He kept his teeth hard together and prayed for endurance.

Only five days, and it might be weeks before they made a port.