Mutinying? Did that mean the workers were refusing to do their jobs?

“Guess they be thinking they’re better than the lot of us,” Gully grumbled as he lumbered past. “They been complaining ’bout too much work and not enough grub.”

“Of course, they picked the opportune time to stop working now that we’re in the doldrums,” Dr. Colville responded.

“Got that right.” Gully swung onto the forestay and started climbing the mast. “Without the engines and no wind to power the sails, we be stuck.”

Mercy didn’t quite know how to respond to the crisis. But thankfully Dr. Colville didn’t seem to expect her to say anything. Instead, he excused himself and strode away.

Even as she pictured the ship drifting aimlessly on the ocean and everyone aboard dying of thirst and hunger, she returned to Miss Lawrence’s stateroom with the same resignation that had held her in good stead in the past—the resignation not to dwell on her worries or sorrows. She’d seen too many others wallow in their problems, eventually sinking under the weight of them. She wouldn’t do the same.

Soon the commotion on the decks turned into a frenzy as other second- and third-class passengers began to congregate. The main deck overflowed with people from steerage, who demanded to know what was happening.

As the hours passed with no sight of Dr. Colville, something inside her twisted until she felt as taut as the ship’s rigging. She wanted to believe he was with the other passengers on the deck awaiting the outcome. Yet a deeper part of her knew he’d descended to the boiler rooms, straight into the heart of the mutiny, that he wasn’t the kind of man to sit back and do nothing in the face of peril. He’d be at the forefront of it, searching for a solution, which would put him in very real danger.

Finally, when she could no longer sit still with Miss Lawrence, Mercy wound her way to the aft cabins to check on her charges. Most of the sixty women were waiting anxiously in their cramped roped-off area of the deck, wilting under the hot sun.

At the sight of Mercy, they bombarded her with questions. She told them the small amount she’d gathered about the mutiny but added that she was as uninformed as they were. Mr. Scott was nowhere to be seen, and Mrs. Robb was frazzled by her attempts to keep the women from carrying out their own mutiny against her strict confinement to their little corner of the ship.