Alone in her stateroom after signing the agreement, she wondered what he would think of her.  She owed him so much that she at least should have stood by him.  She felt that he would be conscious of this?  How could she have turned against him?  He would not understand—­of course he would never understand.  And he would hate her with the others—­more than the others.  It was all a wretched muddle and she could not see her way out of it.

Monty found his guests very difficult.  They listened to his plans with but little interest, and he could not but see that they were uncomfortable.  The situation was new to their experience, and they were under a strain.  “They mope around like a lot of pouting boys and girls,” he growled to himself.  “But it’s the North Cape now in spite of everything.  I don’t care if the whole crowd deserts me, my mind is made up.”

Try as he would, he could not see Peggy alone.  He had much that he wanted to say to her and he hungered for the consolation her approval would bring him, but she clung to Pettingill with a tenacity that was discouraging.  The old feeling of jealousy that was connected with Como again disturbed him.

“She thinks that I am a hopeless, brainless idiot,” he said to himself.  “And I don’t blame her, either.”

Just before nightfall he noticed that his friends were assembling in the bow.  As he started to join the group “Subway” Smith and DeMille advanced to meet him.  Some of the others were smiling a little sheepishly, but the two men were pictures of solemnity and decision.

“Monty,” said DeMille steadily, “we have been conspiring against you and have decided that we sail for New York to-morrow morning.”

Brewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they never could forget.  Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each other like flashes of light.  Not a word was spoken for several seconds.  The red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes wavered the look of one who has been hunted down.

“You have decided?” he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went out in pity to him.

“We hated to do it, Monty, but for your own sake there was no other way,” said “Subway” Smith quickly.  “We took a vote and there wasn’t a dissenting voice.”  “It is a plain case of mutiny, I take it,” said Monty, utterly alone and heart-sick.

“It isn’t necessary to tell you why we have taken this step,” said DeMille.  “It is heart-breaking to oppose you at this stage of the game.  You’ve been the best ever and—­”

“Cut that,” cried Monty, and his confidence in himself was fast returning.  “This is no time to throw bouquets.”

“We like you, Brewster.”  Mr. Valentine came to the chairman’s assistance because the others had looked at him so appealingly.  “We like you so well that we can’t take the responsibility for your extravagance.  It would disgrace us all.”