For a long time after Mark’s story ended, the two brothers sat still in the cabin, puffing at their pipes, thinking.... Mark watched Joel, waiting for the younger man to speak. And Joel’s thoughts ranged back, and picked up the tale in the beginning, and followed it through once more....

They were silent for so long that little Priss, in the cabin, drifted from waking dreams to dreams in truth. The pictures Mark’s words had conjured up merged with troubled phantasies, and she twisted and cried out softly in her sleep so that Joel went in at last to be sure she was not sick. But while he stood beside her, she passed into quiet and untroubled slumber, and he came back and sat down with Mark again.

“You brought the schooner into Tubuai?” he asked.

“Aye. Alone. Half a thousand miles. There’s a task, Joel.”

“And left it there?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Mark smiled grimly. “It was known there,” he said quietly. “Also, the three whom I had found aboard it were known. And they had friends in Tubuai, who wondered what had come to them. I was beginning to—find their questions troublesome—when the Nathan Ross came in.”

“They will ask more questions now,” said Joel.

“They must ask them of the schooner; and—she does not speak,” Mark told him.

Joel was troubled and uncertain. “It’s—a black thing,” he said.

“They’ll not be after me, if that distresses you,” Mark promised him. “Curiosity does not go to such lengths in these waters.”

“You told no one?”

Mark laughed. “The pearls were—my own concern. You’re the first I’ve told.” He watched his brother. Joel frowned thoughtfully, shook his head.

“You plan to go back for them?” he asked.

“You and I,” said Mark casually. Joel looked at him in quick surprise; and Mark laughed. “Yes,” he repeated. “You and I. I am not selfish, Joel. Besides—there are plenty for two.”

Joel, for an instant, found no word; and Mark leaned quickly toward him. He tapped Joel’s knee. “We’ll work up that way,” he said quietly. “When we come to the island, you and I go ashore, and get them where they’re hid beneath the rock; and we come back aboard with no one any wiser.... Rich. A double handful of them, Joel....”

Joel’s eyes were clouded with thought; he shook his head slowly. “What of the blacks?” he asked.

Mark laughed. “They were brought down on us by the woman who got away,” he said. “Quint’s woman. I heard as much that day, saw her among them. But—they’re gone before this.”

Joel said slowly: “You are not sure of that. And—I cannot risk the ship....”

Mark asked sneeringly: “Are you afraid?”

The younger man flushed; but he said steadily: “Yes. Afraid of losing Asa Worthen’s ship for him.”

Mark chuckled unpleasantly. “I’m minded of what is written, here and there, in the ‘Log of the House of Shore,’” he said, half to himself. And he quoted: “‘All the brothers were valiant....’ There’s more to that, Joel. ‘And all the sisters virtuous.’ I had not known we had sisters—but it seems you’re one, boy. Not valiant, by your own admission; but at least you’re fairly virtuous.”

Joel paid no heed to the taunt. “Asa Worthen likes care taken of his ship,” he said, half to himself. “I’m thinking he would not think well of this.... He’s not a man to gamble....”

“Gamble?” Mark echoed scornfully. “He has no gamble in this. The pearls are for you and me. He will know nothing whatever about them. A handful for me, and a handful for you, Joel. For the taking....”

“You did not think to give him owner’s lay?” Joel asked.

“No.”

“Where is this island?”

Mark laughed. “I’ll not be too precise—until I have your word, Joel. But—’tis to the northward.”

“Our course is west, then south.”

“Since when has the Nathan Ross kept schedule and time table like a mail ship?”

Joel shook his head. “I cannot do it, Mark.”

“Why not?”

“A risk I have no right to take; and wasted weeks, out of our course. For which Asa Worthen pays.”

Mark smiled sardonically. “You’re vastly more virtuous than any sister could be, Joel, my dear.”

Joel said steadily: “There may be two minds about that. There may be two minds as to—the duty of a captain to his ship and his owner. But—I’ve shown you my mind in the matter.”

Mark leaned toward him, eyes half-friendly. “You’re wrong, Joel. I’ll convince you.”

“You’ll not.”

“A handful of them,” Mark whispered. “Worth anything up to a hundred thousand. Maybe more. I do not know the little things as well as some. All for a little jog out of your way....”

Joel shook his head. And Mark, in a sudden surge of anger, stormed to his feet with clenched hand upraised. “By the Lord, Joel, I’d not have believed it. You’re mad; plain mad—sister, dear! You....”

Joel said quietly: “Your schooner is at Tubuai. I’ll set you back there, if you will.”

Mark mocked him. “Would you throw your own brother off the ship he captained?... Oh hard, hard heart....”

“You may stay, or go,” Joel told him. “Have your way.”

Mark’s eyes for an instant narrowed; they turned toward the door of the cabin where Priss lay.... And there was a flicker of black hatred in them, but his voice was suave when he replied: “With your permission, captain dear, I’ll stay.”

Joel nodded; he rose. “Young Morrell has given you his bunk,” he said. “So—good night, to you.”

He opened the door into the main cabin; and Mark, his fingers twitching, went out. He turned, spoke over his shoulder. “Good night; and—pleasant dreams,” he said.