Joel was below, in the cabin with Priss, when his brother boarded the ship. Varde and Dick Morrell had gone ashore for water and supplies, and Priss was to go that afternoon, with Joel. She was sewing a ribbon rosette upon the hat she would wear, when she and Joel heard the sound of excited voices, and the movement of feet on the deck above their head. He left her, curled up on the cushioned bench, with the gay ribbon in her hands, and went out through the main cabin, and up the companion. He had been trying, clumsily enough, to make friends with Priss; but she was very much on her dignity that morning....

When his head rose above the level of the cabin skylight, he saw a group of men near the rail, amidships. Finch, and Hooper, and old Aaron Burnham, and two of the harpooners, all pressing close about another man.... Finch obscured this other man from Joel’s view, until he climbed up on deck. Then he saw that the other man was his brother.

He went forward to join them; and it chanced that at first no one of them looked in his direction. Mark’s back was half-turned; but Joel could see that his brother was lean, and bronzed by the sun. And he wore no hat, and his thick, black hair was rumpled and wild. The white shirt that he wore was open at the throat above his brown neck. His arms were bare to the elbows. His chest was like a barrel. There was a splendor of strength and vigor about the man, in the very look of him, and in his eye, and his voice, and his laughter. He seemed to shine, like the sun....

Joel, as he came near them, heard Mark laugh throatily at something Finch had said; and he heard Finch say unctuously: “Be sure, Captain Shore, every man aboard here is damned glad you’ve come back to us. You were missed, missed sore, sir.”

Mark laughed again, at that; and he clapped Jim’s fat shoulder. The action swung him around so that he saw Joel for the first time. Joel thrust out his hand.

“Mark, man! They said you were dead,” he exclaimed.

Mark Shore’s eyes narrowed for an instant, in a quick, appraising scrutiny of his brother. “Dead?” he laughed, jeeringly. “Do I look dead?” He stared at Joel more closely, glanced at the other men, and chuckled. “By the Lord, kid,” he cried, “I believe old Asa has put you in my shoes.”

Joel nodded. “He gave me command of the Nathan Ross. Yes.”

Mark looked sidewise at big Jim Finch, and grinned. “Over your head, eh, Jim? Too damned bad!”

Finch grinned. “I had no wish for the place, sir. You see, I felt very sure you would be coming back to your own.”

Mark tilted back his head and laughed. “You were always a very cautious man, Jim Finch. Never jumped till you were sure where you would land.” He wheeled on Joel. “Well, boy—how does it feel to wear long pants?”

Joel, holding his anger in check, said slowly: “We’ve done well. Close on eight hundred barrel aboard.”

Mark wagged his head in solemn reproof. “Joey, Joey, you’ve been fiddling away your time. I can see that!”

Over his brother’s shoulder, Joel saw the grinning face of big Jim Finch, and his eyes hardened. He said quietly: “If that’s your tone, Mark, you’ll call back your boat and go ashore.”

A flame surged across Mark’s cheek; and he took one swift, terrible step toward his brother. But Joel did not give ground; and after a moment in which their eyes clashed like swords, Mark relaxed, and laughed and bowed low.

“I was wrong, grievously wrong, Captain Shore,” he said sonorously. “I neglected the respect due your office. Your high office, sir. I thank you for reminding me of the—the proprieties, Captain.” And he added, in a different tone, “Now will you not invite me aft on your ship, sir?”

Joel hesitated for a bare instant, caught by a vague foreboding that he could not explain. But in the end he nodded, as though in answer to the unspoken question in his thoughts. “Will you come down into the cabin, Mark?” he invited quietly. “I’ve much to ask you; and you must have many things to tell.”

Mark nodded. “I will come,” he said; and his eyes lighted suddenly, and he dropped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Aye, Joel,” he said softly, into his brother’s ear, as they went aft together. “Aye, I’ve much to tell. Many things and marvelous. Matters you’d scarce credit, Joel.” Joel looked at him quickly, and Mark nodded. “True they are, Joel,” he cried exultantly. “Marvelous—and true as good, red gold.”

At the tone, and the eager light in his brother’s eyes, Joel’s slow pulses quickened, but he said nothing. At the top of the cabin companion, he stepped aside to let Mark descend first; and Mark went down the steep and awkward stair with the easy, sliding gait of a great cat. Joel, behind him, could see the muscles stir and swell upon his shoulders. In the cabin, Mark halted abruptly, and looked about, and exclaimed: “You’ve changed things, Joel. I’d not know the ship.”

The door into Priscilla’s cabin, across the stern, was open. Priss had finished that matter of the ribbon, and was watering her flowers, kneeling on the bench, when she heard Mark’s voice, and knew it. And she cried, in surprise and joy: “Mark! Oh—Mark!” And she ran to the door, and stood there, framed for Mark’s eyes against the light behind her, hands holding to the door frame on either side.

Mark cried delightedly: “Priss Holt!” And he was at her side in an instant, and caught her without ceremony, and kissed her roundly, as he had been accustomed to do when he came home from the sea. But he must have been a blind man not to have seen in that first moment that Priss was no longer child, but woman. And Mark was not blind. He kissed her till she laughingly fought herself free.

“Mark!” she cried again. “You’re not dead. I knew you couldn’t be....”

Joel, behind them, at sight of Priscilla in his brother’s arms, had stirred with a quick rush of anger; but he was ashamed of it in the next moment, and stood still where he was. Mark held Priss by the shoulders, laughing down at her.

“And how did you know I couldn’t be dead?” he demanded. “Miss Wise Lady.”

She moved her head confusedly. “Oh—you were always so—so alive, or something.... You just couldn’t be....”

He chuckled, released her, and stood away and surveyed her. “Priss, Priss,” he said contritely, “you’re not a little kid any longer. Dresses down, and hair up....” He wagged his head. “It’s a wonder you did not slap my face.” And then he looked from her to Joel, and abruptly he tossed his great head back and laughed aloud. “By the Lord,” he roared. “The children are married. Married....”

Priscilla flushed furiously, and stamped her foot at him. “Of course we’re married,” she cried. “Did you think I’d come clear around the world with....” Her words were smothered in her own hot blushes, and Mark laughed again, until she cried: “Stop it. I won’t have you laughing at us. Joel—make him stop!”

Mark sobered instantly, and he backed away from Joel in mock panic, both hands raised, defensively, so that they laughed at him. When they laughed, he cast aside his panic, and sat down on the cushions, stretching his legs luxuriously before him. “Now,” he exclaimed. “Tell me all about it. When, and why, and how?”

Priss dropped on the bench beside him, feet tucked under her in the miraculous fashion of small women; and she enumerated her answers on the pink tips of her fingers. “When?” she repeated. “The day before we sailed. Why? Just because. How? In the same old way.” She waved her hand, as though disposing of the matter once and for all, and looked up at him, and laughed. Joel thought she had not seemed so completely happy since the day the cabin was finished. “So,” she said, “that’s all there is to tell you about us. Tell us about you.”

Mark’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, now, what’s the use? That will come later. Besides—some chapters are not for gentle ears.” He nodded toward Joel. “So you love the boy, yonder?”

Priss bobbed her head, red lips pursed, eyes dancing.

“Why?” Mark demanded. “What do you discover in him?”

She looked at Joel, and they laughed together as though at some delightful secret, mutually shared. Mark wagged his head dolorously. “And I suppose he’s wild about you?” he asked.

She nodded more vigorously than ever.

Mark rubbed his hands together. He looked at Joel, with a faintly malicious twinkle in his eyes. “Well, now!” he exclaimed. “That is certainly the best of news....” Joel saw the mocking and malignant little devil in his eye. “I’ve never had a kid sister,” said Mark gayly. “And it’s been the great sorrow of my life, Priss. So, Joel, you must expect Priss and myself to turn out the very best of friends.”

And Priscilla, on the seat beside him, nodded her lovely head once more. “I should say so,” she exclaimed.