When Priss, through the crack in the door, heard what Mark had said, she shut the door of her cabin soundlessly, and crouched against it, listening. She was trembling.... There was a long moment when no one of the men in the after cabin spoke. Then big Jim Finch said suavely: “That is to say, if Captain Shore does not object.” Joel asked then: “What if I do object?” Mark laughed. “If you do object, why—we’ll just go anyway. But you’ll have no share.” And surly Varde added: “We’d as soon you did object.” Mark bade him be quiet. “That’s not true, Joel did not speak; and Priss, trembling against the door, thought bitterly: “He’s afraid.... He said, himself, that he is afraid....” Dick Morrell begged eagerly: “Please, Captain Shore. There’s a fortune for all of us. Mr. Worthen would tell you to do it....” Joel said then: “I told Mark Shore in the beginning that I would not risk my ship. The enterprise is not lawful. The pearls were stolen in the beginning; murder hung around them. Bad luck would follow them—and there are blacks on the island to prevent our finding them, in any case.” “There’s no harm in going to see,” Morrell urged. “’Tis far out of our proper way. Wasted time. And—the men should be thinking of oil, not of pearls.” Mark laughed. “That may be,” he agreed. “But the men’s thoughts are already on the pearls. They’ve no mind for whaling, Joel. They’ve no mind for it.” “I’m doubtful that what you say is true.” His brother snapped angrily: “Do you call me liar?” “No,” said Joel gently. “You were never one to lie, Mark.” And Priss, listening, winced at the thing that was like apology in his tone. She heard Mark laugh again, aloud; and she heard the fat chuckle of Jim Finch. Then Mark said: “It’s well you remember that. So.... There was a long moment of silence before Joel answered. At last he said: “You’re making to spill blood on the Nathan Ross, Mark. I’ve no mind for that. I’ll not have it—if I can stop it. So ... I’ll consider this matter, to-night, and give you your answer in the morning.” “You’ll answer now,” Varde said sullenly. “There’s too much words and words.... You’ll answer now.” “I’ll answer in the morning,” Joel repeated, as though he had not heard Varde. “In the morning. And—for now—I’ll bid you good night, gentlemen.” Mark chuckled. “There’s one matter, Joel. You’ve two rifles and a pair of revolvers in the lockfast by your cabin there. I’ll take Priss held her breath, listening.... But Joel said readily: “Yes. Here is the key, Mark. And—I hold you responsible for the weapons.” Her anger at Joel for his submission beat in her ears; and she heard the jingle of the keys, and the scrape and ring of the weapons as Mark took them. He called to Joel as he did so: “They’ll not leave my hands. Till the morning, Joel, my boy....” The keys jingled again. Mark said: “We’ll ask you to stay in the after cabin here till morning. And—Varde will be in the main cabin to see that you do it.” “I’ll stay here,” Joel promised. “Then—we’ll bid you good night!” Priss heard Joel echo the words, in even tones. Then the door closed behind the men.... There She opened her door. Joel stood by his desk, head drooping, one hand resting on the open log before him. She went toward him, and when he turned and saw her, she stopped, and studied him, her eyes searching his. And at last she said, so softly it was as though she spoke to herself: “‘All the brothers were valiant,’ Joel. Are you—just a coward?” He would not justify himself to her; he could only remember the shadowed deck beneath the boat house—Priscilla in his brother’s arms.... He lifted his right hand a little, said sternly: “Go back to your place.” She flung her eyes away from him, stood for an instant, then went to her cabin with feet that lagged and stumbled. |