Happily, MacMuir himself discovered the affair on the eve of its perpetration, overhearing two men talking in the breadroom, and he ran to the cabin with the sweat standing out on his forehead.  But the captain would have none of the precautions he urged; declared he would walk the deck as usual, and vowed he could cope single-handed with a dozen cowards like Maxwell.  Sure enough, at crowdie-time, the men were seen coming aft, with Maxwell in the van carrying a bowl, on the pretext of a complaint against the cook.

“John Paul,” said MacMuir, with admiration in his voice and gesture, “John Paul wasna feart a pickle, but gaed to the mast, whyles I stannt chittering i’ my claes, fearfu’ for his life.  He teuk the horns from Mungo, priet (tasted) a soup o’ the crowdie, an’ wi’ that he seiz’t haut o’ the man by baith shouthers ere the blastie (scoundrel) raught for ’s knife.  My aith upo’t, sir, the lave (rest) o’ the batch cowert frae his e’e for a’ the wand like thumpit tykes.’”

So ended that mutiny, by the brave act of a brave man.  The carpenter was clapt into irons himself, and given no less of the cat-o’-nine-tails than was good for him, and properly discharged at Tobago with such as had supported him.  But he brought Captain Paul before the vice-admiralty court of that place, charging him with gross cruelty, and this proceeding had delayed the brigantine six months from her homeward voyage, to the great loss of her owners.  And tho’ at length the captain was handsomely acquitted, his character suffered unjustly, for there lacked not those who put their own interpretation upon the affair.  He would most probably lose the brigantine.  “He expected as much,” said MacMuir.

“There be mony aboord,” he concluded, with a sigh, “as’ll muckle gash (gossip) when we win to Kirkcudbright.”

CHAPTER XX

A SAD HOME-COMING

Mr. Lowrie and Auctherlonnie, the Dumfries bo’sun, both of whom would have died for the captain, assured me of the truth of MacMuir’s story, and shook their heads gravely as to the probable outcome.  The peculiar water-mark of greatness that is woven into some men is often enough to set their own community bitter against them.  Sandie, the plodding peasant, finds it a hard matter to forgive Jamie, who is taken from the plough next to his, and ends in Parliament.  The affair of Mungo Maxwell, altered to suit, had already made its way on more than one vessel to Scotland.  For according to Lowrie, there was scarce a man or woman in Kirkcudbrightshire who did not know that John Paul was master of the John, and (in their hearts) that he would be master of more in days to come.  Human nature is such that they resented it, and cried out aloud against his cruelty.