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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, All the Brothers Were Valiant, by Ben Ames
+Williams
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: All the Brothers Were Valiant
+
+
+Author: Ben Ames Williams
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 23, 2008  [eBook #25885]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+The MacMillan Company
+
+New York · Boston · Chicago · Dallas
+Atlanta · San Francisco
+
+MacMillan & Co., Limited
+
+London · Bombay · Calcutta
+Melbourne
+
+The MacMillan Co. of Canada, Ltd.
+Toronto
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+by
+
+BEN AMES WILLIAMS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+The MacMillan Company
+1919
+
+All rights reserved
+
+Copyright, 1919, by
+The Ridgway Company
+
+Copyright, 1919
+by The MacMillan Company
+
+Set up and electrotyped. Published, May, 1919
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+I
+
+
+The fine old house stood on Jumping Tom Hill, above the town. It had
+stood there before there was a town, when only a cabin or two fringed the
+woods below, nearer the shore. The weather boarding had been brought in
+ships from England, ready sawed; likewise the bricks of the chimney.
+Indians used to come to the house in the cold of winter, begging shelter.
+Given blankets, and food, and drink, they slept upon the kitchen floor;
+and when Joel Shore's great-great-grandfather came down in the morning,
+he found Indians and blankets gone together. Sometimes the Indians came
+back with a venison haunch, or a bear steak ... sometimes not at all.
+
+The house had, now, the air of disuse which old New England houses often
+have. It was in perfect repair; its paint was white, and its shutters
+hung squarely at the windows. But the grass was uncut in the yard, and
+the lack of a veranda, and the tight-closed doors and windows, made the
+house seem lifeless and lacking the savor of human presence. There was a
+white-painted picket fence around the yard; and a rambler rose draped
+these pickets. The buds on the rose were bursting into crimson flower.
+
+The house was four-square, plain, and without any ornamentation. It was
+built about a great, square chimney that was like a spine. There were six
+flues in this chimney, and a pot atop each flue. These little chimney
+pots breaking the severe outlines of the house, gave the only suggestion
+of lightness or frivolity about it. They were like the heads of impish
+children, peeping over a fence....
+
+Across the front of this house, on the second floor, ran a single, long
+room like a corridor. Its windows looked down, across the town, to the
+Harbor. A glass hung in brackets on the wall; there was a hog-yoke in its
+case upon a little table, and a ship's chronometer, and a compass....
+There were charts in a tin tube upon the wall, and one that showed the
+Harbor and the channel to the sea hung between the middle windows. In the
+north corner, a harpoon, and two lances, and a boat spade leaned. Their
+blades were covered with wooden sheaths, painted gray. A fifteen-foot
+jawbone, cleaned and polished and with every curving tooth in place, hung
+upon the rear wall and gleamed like old and yellow ivory. The chair at
+the table was fashioned of whalebone; and on a bracket above the table
+rested the model of a whaling ship, not more than eighteen inches long,
+fashioned of sperm ivory and perfect in every detail. Even the tiny
+harpoons in the boats that hung along the rail were tipped with bits of
+steel....
+
+The windows of this place were tight closed; nevertheless, the room was
+filled with the harsh, strong smell of the sea.
+
+Joel Shore sat in the whalebone chair, at the table, reading a book. The
+book was the Log of the House of Shore. Joel's father had begun it, when
+Joel and his four brothers were ranging from babyhood through youth.... A
+full half of the book was filled with entries in old Matthew Shore's
+small, cramped hand. The last of these entries was very short. It began
+with a date, and it read:
+
+"Wind began light, from the south. This day came into Harbor the bark
+_Winona_, after a cruise of three years, two months, and four days.
+Captain Chase reported that my eldest son, Matthew Shore, was killed by
+the fluke of a right whale, at Christmas Island. The whale yielded
+seventy barrels of oil. Matthew Shore was second mate."
+
+And below, upon a single line, like an epitaph, the words:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+Two days after, the old man sickened; and three weeks later, he died. He
+had set great store by big Matt....
+
+Joel, turning the leaves of the Log, and scanning their brief entries,
+came presently to this--written in the hand of his brother John:
+
+"Wind easterly. This day the _Betty_ was reported lost on the Japan
+grounds, with all hands save the boy and the cook. Noah Shore was third
+mate. Day ended as it began."
+
+And below, again, that single line:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+There followed many pages filled with reports of rich cruises, when ships
+came home with bursting casks, and the brothers of the House of Shore
+played the parts of men. The entries were now in the hand of one, now of
+another; John and Mark and Joel.... Joel read phrases here and there....
+
+"This day the _Martin Wilkes_ returned ... two years, eleven months and
+twenty-two days ... died on the cruise, and first mate John Shore became
+captain. Day ended as it began."
+
+And, a page or two further on:
+
+"... _Martin Wilkes_ ... two years, two months, four days ... tubs on
+deck filled with oil, for which there was no more room in the casks ...
+Captain John Shore."
+
+Mark Shore's first entry in the Log stood out from the others; for Mark's
+hand was bold, and strong, and the letters sprawled blackly along the
+lines. Furthermore, Mark used the personal pronoun, while the other
+brothers wrote always in the third person. Mark had written:
+
+"This day, I, Mark Shore, at the age of twenty-seven, was given command
+of the whaling bark _Nathan Ross_."
+
+Joel read this sentence thrice. There was a bold pride in it, and a
+strong and reckless note which seemed to bring his brother before his
+very eyes. Mark had always been so, swift of tongue, and strong, and
+sure. Joel turned another page, came to where Mark had written:
+
+"This day I returned from my first cruise with full casks in two years,
+seven months, fifteen days. I found the _Martin Wilkes_ in the dock. They
+report Captain John Shore lost at Vau Vau in an effort to save the ship's
+boy, who had fallen overboard. The boy was also lost."
+
+And, below, in bold and defiant letters:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+There were two more pages of entries, in Mark's hand or in Joel's, before
+the end. When he came to the fresh page, Joel dipped his pen, and huddled
+his broad shoulders over the book, and slowly wrote that which had to be
+written.
+
+"Wind northeast, light," he began, according to the ancient form of the
+sea, which makes the state of wind and weather of first and foremost
+import. "Wind northeast, light. This day the _Martin Wilkes_ finished a
+three year cruise. Found in port the _Nathan Ross_. She reports that
+Captain Mark Shore left the ship when she watered at the Gilbert Islands.
+He did not return, and could not be found. They searched three weeks.
+They encountered hostile islanders. No trace of Mark Shore."
+
+When he had written thus far, he read the record to himself, his lips
+moving; then he sat for a space with frowning brows, thinking, thinking,
+wondering if there were a chance....
+
+But in the end he cast the hope aside. If Mark lived, they would have
+found him, would surely have found him....
+
+And so Joel wrote the ancient line:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+And below, as an afterthought, he added: "Joel Shore became first mate of
+the _Martin Wilkes_ on her cruise."
+
+He blotted this line, and closed the book, and put it away. Then he went
+to the windows that looked down upon the Harbor, and stood there for a
+long time. His face was serene, but his eyes were faintly troubled. He
+did not see the things that lay outspread below him.
+
+Yet they were worth seeing. The town was old, and it had the fragrance of
+age about it.
+
+Below Joel, on the hill's slopes, among the trees, stood the square white
+houses of the town folk. Beyond them, the white spire of the church with
+its weather vane atop. Joel marked that the wind was still northeast. The
+vane swung fitfully in the light air. He could see the masts and yards of
+the ships along the waterfront. The yards of the _Nathan Ross_ were
+canted in mournful tribute to his brother. At the pier end beside her, he
+marked the ranks of casks, brown with sweating oil. Beyond, the smooth
+water ruffled in the wind, and dark ripple-shadows moved across its
+surface with each breeze. There were gulls in the air, and on the water.
+Such stillness lay upon the sleepy town that if his windows had been
+open, he might have heard the harsh cries of the birds. A man was
+sculling shoreward from a fishing schooner that lay at anchor off the
+docks; and a whaleboat crawled like a spider across the harbor toward
+Fairhaven on the other side.
+
+On a flag staff above a big building near the water, a half-masted flag
+hung idly in the faintly stirring air. It hung there, he knew, for his
+brother's sake. He watched it thoughtfully, wondering.... There had been
+such an abounding insolence of life in big Mark Shore.... It was hard to
+believe that he was surely dead.
+
+A woman passed along the street below the house, and looked up and saw
+him at the window. He did not see her. Two boys crawled along the white
+picket fence, and pricked their fingers as they broke half-open clusters
+from the rambler without molestation. A gray squirrel, when the boys had
+gone, came down from an elm across the street and sprinted desperately to
+the foot of the great oak below the house. When it was safe in the oak's
+upper branches, it scolded derisively at the imaginary terrors it had
+escaped. A blue jay, with ruffled feathers--a huge, blue ball in the
+air--rocketed across from the elm, and established himself near the
+squirrel, and they swore at each other like coachmen. The squirrel swore
+from temper and disposition; the jay from malice and derision. The bird
+seemed to have the better of the argument, for the squirrel suddenly fell
+silent and departed, his emotions revealing themselves only in the angry
+flicks of his tail. When he was gone, the jay began to investigate a knot
+in a limb of the oak. The bird climbed around this knot with slow motions
+curiously like those of a parrot.
+
+A half-grown boy came up the street and turned in at the gate. Joel
+remained where he was until the boy manipulated the knocker on the door;
+then he went down and opened. He knew the boy; Peter How. Peter was thin
+and freckled and nervous; and he was inclined to stammer. When Joel
+opened the door, Peter was at first unable to speak. He stood on the
+step, jerking his chin upward and forward as though his collar irked him.
+Joel smiled slowly.
+
+"Come in, Peter," he said.
+
+Peter jerked his chin, jerked his whole head furiously. "C--C--C--" he
+said. "Asa W-W-Worthen wants to s-s-see you."
+
+Asa Worthen was the owner of the _Martin Wilkes_, and of the _Nathan
+Ross_. Joel nodded gently.
+
+"Thank you, Peter," he told the boy. "I'll get my hat and come."
+
+Peter jerked his head. He seemed to be choking. "He's a-a-a-a-at his
+office," he blurted.
+
+Joel had found his hat. He closed the door of the house behind him, and
+he and Peter went down the shady street together.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Asa Worthen was a small, lean, strong old man, immensely voluble. He must
+have been well over sixty years old; and he had grown rich by harvesting
+the living treasures of the sea. At thirty-four, he owned his first ship.
+She was old, and cranky, and no more seaworthy than a log; but she earned
+him more than four hundred thousand dollars, net, before he beached her
+on the sand below the town. She lay there still, her upper parts strong
+and well preserved. But her bottom was gone, and she was slowly rotting
+into the sand.
+
+Asa himself had captained this old craft, until she had served her
+appointed time; but when she went to the sand flats, he, too, stayed
+ashore, to watch his ships come in. When they were in harbor, they
+berthed in his own dock; and from his office at the shoreward end of the
+pier, he could look down upon their decks, and watch the casks come out,
+so fat with oil, and the stores go aboard for each cruise. The cries of
+the men and the wheeling gulls, the rattle of the blocks and gear, and
+the rich smell of the oil came up to him.... The _Nathan Ross_ was
+loading now; and when Joel climbed the office stairs, he found the old
+man at the window watching them sling great shooks of staves into her
+hold, and fidgeting at the lubberliness of the men who did the work.
+
+Asa's office was worth seeing; a strange, huge room, windowed on three
+sides; against one wall, a whaleboat with all her gear in place; in a
+corner, the twisted jaw of a sixty-barrel bull, killed in the Seychelles;
+and Asa Worthen's big desk, with a six-foot model of his old ship atop
+it, between the forward windows. Beside the desk stood that contrivance
+known to the whalemen as a "woman's tub"; a cask, sawed chair-fashion,
+with a cross board for seat, and ropes so rigged that the whole might be
+easily and safely swung from ship to small boat or back again. Asa had
+taken his wife along on more than one of his early voyages ... before she
+died....
+
+At Joel's step, the little man swung awkwardly away from the window,
+toward the door. Many years ago, a racing whale line had snarled his left
+leg and whipped away a gout of muscle; and this leg was now shorter than
+its fellow, so that Asa walked with a pegging limp. He hitched across the
+big room, and took Joel's arm, and led the young man to the desk.
+
+"Sit down, Joel. Sit down," he said briskly. "I've words to say to you,
+my son. Sit down." Asa was smoking; and Joel took a twist of leaf from
+his pocket, and cut three slices, and crumbled them and stuffed them into
+the bowl of his black pipe. Asa watched the process, and he watched Joel,
+puffing without comment. There was something furtive in the scrutiny of
+the young man, but Joel did not mark it. When the pipe was ready, Asa
+passed across a match, and Joel struck it, and puffed slowly....
+
+Asa began, abruptly, what he had to say. "Joel, the _Nathan Ross_ will be
+ready for sea in five days. She's stout, her timbers are good and her
+tackle is strong. She's a lucky ship. The oil swims after her across the
+broad sea, and begs to be taken. She's my pet ship, Joel, as you know;
+and she's uncommon well fitted. Mark had her. Now I want you to take
+her."
+
+Joel's calm eyes had met the other's while Asa was speaking; and Asa had
+shifted to avoid the encounter. But Joel's heart was pounding so, at the
+words of the older man, that he took no heed. He listened, and he waited
+thoughtfully until he was sure of what he wished to say. Then he asked
+quietly:
+
+"Is not James Finch the mate of her? Did he not fetch her home?"
+
+"Aye," said Asa impatiently. "He brought her home--in the top scurry of
+haste. There was no need of such haste; for he had still casks unfilled,
+and there was sparm all about him where he lay. He should have filled
+those last casks. 'Tis in them the profit lies." He shook his head
+sorrowfully. "No, Jim Finch will not do. He is a good man--under another
+man. But he has not the spine that stands alone. When Mark Shore was gone
+... Jim had no thought but to throw the try works overside and scurry
+hitherward as though he feared to be out upon the seas alone."
+
+Joel puffed thrice at his pipe. Then: "You said this morning that for
+three weeks he hunted Mark, up and down the Gilbert Islands."
+
+Asa's little eyes whipped toward Joel, and away again. "Oh, aye," he said
+harshly. "Three weeks he hunted, when one was plenty. If Mark Shore
+lived, and wished to find his ship again, he'd have found her in a week.
+If he were dead ... there was no need of the time wasted."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Joel quietly, "James Finch has my thanks for his
+search; and I'm no mind to do him a harm, or to step into his shoes."
+
+Asa smiled grimly. "Ye're over considerate," he said. "Jim Finch was your
+brother's man, and a very loyal one. As long as he is another's man, he
+is content. But he has no want to be his own master and the master of a
+ship, and of men. I've askit him."
+
+Joel puffed hard at his pipe; and after a little he asked: "Sir, what
+think you it was that came to Mark?"
+
+Asa looked at him sharply, then away; and his accustomed volubility fell
+away from him. He lifted his hands. "Ask James Finch. I've no way to
+tell," he said curtly.
+
+"Have you no opinion?" Joel insisted.
+
+The ship owner tilted his head, set finger tip to finger tip, assumed the
+air of one who delivers judgment. "Islanders, 'tis like," he said.
+"There's a many there." He looked sidewise at Joel, looked away. Joel was
+nodding.
+
+"Yes, many thereabouts," he agreed. "But there would have been tracks.
+Were there none?"
+
+"Mark left his boat's crew," said Asa. "Walked away along the shore. That
+was all."
+
+"No tracks?"
+
+"They saw where he'd left the sand." The ship owner shifted in his chair.
+"Seems like I'd heard you and Mark wa'n't too good friends, Joel. Your
+a'mighty worked up."
+
+Joel looked at the little man with bleak eyes. "He was my brother."
+
+"I've heard tell he forgot you was his, sometimes."
+
+Joel paid no heed. "You think it was Islanders?"
+
+Asa kicked the corner of his desk, watching his foot. "What else was
+there?"
+
+"I've nothing in my mind," said Joel, and shook his head. "But it sticks
+in me that Mark was no man to die easy. There was a full measure of life
+in him."
+
+Asa got up awkwardly, waved his hand. "We're off the course, Joel. What
+about the _Nathan Ross_? Ready for sea, come Tuesday. I'm not one to
+press her on any man, unwilling. Say your say, man. Do you take her? Or
+no?"
+
+Joel drew slowly once more upon his pipe. "If I take her," he said,
+"we'll work the Gilberts first of all, and try once again for a sign of
+my brother Mark."
+
+Asa jerked his head. "So you pick up any oil that comes your way, I've no
+objection," he agreed. "Matter of fact, that's the best thing to do. Mark
+may yet live." His eyes snapped up to the others. "You take her, then?"
+
+Joel nodded slowly. "I take her, sir," he said. "With thanks to you."
+
+Asa banged his hand jubilantly on his desk. "That's done. Now ..."
+
+The two men sat down at Asa's big desk again; and for an hour they were
+busy with matters that concerned the coming cruise. When a whaleship goes
+to sea, she goes for a three-year cruise; and save only the items of food
+and water, she carries with her everything she will need for that whole
+time, with an ample allowance to spare. She is a department store of the
+seas; for she works with iron and wood, with steel and bone, with fire
+and water and rope and sail. All these things she must have, and many
+more. And the lists of a whaleship's stores are long and long, and take
+much checking. When they had considered these matters, Asa sent out to
+the pierhead to summon Jim Finch, and told the man that Joel would have
+the ship. Joel said to Finch slowly: "I've no mind to fight a grudge
+aboard my ship, sir. If you blame me for stepping into your shoes, Mr.
+Worthen will give you another berth."
+
+Finch shook his head. He was a big, laughing man with soft, fat cheeks.
+"No, sir," he declared. "It's yours, and welcome. Your brother was a man;
+and you've the look of another, sir."
+
+Joel frowned. He was uncomfortable; he had an angry feeling that Finch
+was too amiable. But he said no more, and Finch went back to the ship,
+and Asa and Joel continued with their task.
+
+While they worked, the afternoon sun drifted down the western sky till
+its level rays were flame lances laid across the harbor. A fishing craft
+at anchor in mid-stream hoisted her sails with a creak and rattle of
+blocks and drifted down the channel with the tide. The wheeling gulls
+dropped, one by one, to the water; or they lurched off to some quiet cove
+to spend the night. Their harsh cries came less frequently, were less
+persistent. The wind had swung around, and it was fetching now from the
+water a cold and salty chill. There was a smell of cooking in the air,
+and the smoke from the _Nathan Ross_' galley, and the cool smell of the
+sea mingled with the strong odor of the oil in the casks ranked at the
+end of the pier.
+
+The sun had touched the horizon when Joel at last rose to go. Asa got up
+with him, dropped a hand on the young man's shoulder. They passed the
+contrivance called a "woman's tub"; and Asa, at sight of it, seemed to be
+minded of something. He stopped, and checked Joel, and with eyes
+twinkling, pointed to the tub. "Will you be wishful to take that on the
+cruise, Joel?" he asked, and looked up sidewise at the younger man, and
+chuckled.
+
+Joel's brown cheeks were covered with slow fire; but his voice was steady
+enough when he replied. "It's a kind offer, sir," he said. "I know well
+what store you set by that tub."
+
+"Will you be wanting it?" Asa still insisted.
+
+"I'll see," said Joel quietly. "I will see."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+The brothers of the House of Shore had been, on the whole, slow to take
+to themselves wives. Matt had never married, nor Noah, nor Mark. John had
+a wife for the weeks he was at home before his last cruise; but he did
+not take her with him on that voyage, and there was no John Shore to
+carry on the name.
+
+John Shore's widow was called Rachel. She had been Rachel Holt; and her
+sister's name was Priscilla. Rachel was one of those women who suggest
+slumbering fires; she was slow of speech, and quiet, and calm.... But
+John Shore and Mark had both loved her; and when she married John, Mark
+laughed a hard and reckless laugh that made the woman afraid. John and
+Mark never spoke, one to another, after that marriage.
+
+Rachel's sister, Priscilla, was a gay and careless child. She was six
+years younger than Joel, and she had acquired in babyhood the habit of
+thinking Joel the most wonderful created thing. Their yards adjoined; and
+she was the baby of her family, and he of his. Thus the big boy and the
+little girl had always been comrades and allies against the world. Before
+Joel first went to sea, as ship's boy, the two had decided they would
+some day be married....
+
+Joel went to supper that night at Priscilla's home. He was alone in his
+own house; and Mrs. Holt was a person with a mother's heart. Rachel lived
+at home. She gave Joel quiet welcome at the door, before Priscilla in the
+kitchen heard his voice and came flying to overwhelm him. She had been
+making popovers, and there was flour on her fingers--and on Joel's best
+black coat, when she was done with him. Rachel brushed it off, when Priss
+had run back to her oven.
+
+They sat down at table. Mrs. Holt at one end, her husband--he was a big
+man, an old sea captain, and full of yarns as a knitting bag--at the
+other; and Rachel at one side, facing Priss and Joel. Joel's ship had
+come in only that day; the _Nathan Ross_ had been in port for weeks. So
+the whole town knew Mark Shore's story. They spoke of it now, and Joel
+told them what he knew.... Rachel wondered if there was any chance that
+Mark might still be alive. Her father broke in with a story of Mark's
+first cruise, when the boy had saved a man's life by his quickness with
+the hatchet on the racing line. The town was full of such stories; for
+Mark was one of those men about whom legends arise. And now he was
+gone....
+
+Priscilla listened to the talk with the wide eyes of youth, awed by the
+mystery and majesty of tragic things. She remembered Mark as a huge man,
+like a pagan god, in whose eyes she had been only a thin-legged little
+girl who made faces through the fence.... After supper, when the others
+had left them in the parlor together, she said to Joel: "Do you think
+he's dead?" Her voice was a whisper.
+
+"I aim to know," said Joel.
+
+Rachel looked in at the door. "You needn't bother with the dishes,
+Priss," she said. "I'll do them."
+
+Priscilla had forgotten all about that task. She ran contritely toward
+her sister. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rachel. I will, I will do them. Joel and
+I...."
+
+Rachel laughed softly. "I don't mind them. You two stay here."
+
+Priscilla accepted the offer, in the end; but she had no notion of
+staying in the tight-windowed parlor, with its harsh carpet on the floor,
+and its samplers on the walls. She was of the new generation, the
+generation which discovered that the night is beautiful, and not
+unhealthy. "Let's go outside," she said to Joel. "There's a moon. We can
+sit on the bench, under the apple tree...."
+
+They went out, side by side. Joel was not a tall man, but he was inches
+taller than Priscilla. She was tiny; a dainty, sweetly proportioned
+creature, built on fine lines that were strangely out of keeping with the
+stalwart stock from which she sprung. Her hair was darker than Joel's; it
+was a brown so dark that it was almost black. But her eyes were vividly
+blue, and her lips were vividly red, and her cheeks were bright.... She
+slipped her hand through Joel's big arm as they crossed the yard; and
+when they had found the seat, she drew his arm frankly about her
+shoulders. "I'm cold," she said, laughing up at him. "You must keep me
+warm...."
+
+The moon flecked down through the leaves upon her face. There was
+moonlight on her cheek, and on her mouth; but her thick hair and her eyes
+were shadowed and mysterious. Joel saw that her lips were smiling.... She
+drew his head down toward hers.... Joel was flesh and blood; and she
+panted, and gasped, and pushed him away, and smoothed her hair, and
+laughed at him. "I love you to be so strong," she whispered, happily.
+
+He had not told them, at supper, of his promotion. He told Priscilla now;
+and the girl could not sit still beside him. She danced in the path
+before the seat; she perched on his knee, and caught his big shoulders in
+her tiny hands and tried to shake him back and forth in her delight. "You
+don't act a bit excited," she scolded. "You don't act as though you were
+glad, a bit. Aren't you glad, Joe? Aren't you just so proud?..."
+
+"Yes," he told her. "Of course. Yes. Yes, I am glad, and I am proud."
+
+"Oh," she cried, "I could--I could just hug you in two." She tried it,
+tightening her arms about his big neck, clinging to him.... He sat stiff
+and awkward under her caresses, thrilling with a happiness that he did
+not know how to express. He felt uneasy, half embarrassed. Her ecstasy
+continued....
+
+Then, abruptly, it passed. She became practical. Still upon his knee, she
+began to ask questions. When would he sail away? She had heard the
+_Nathan Ross_ was almost ready. When would he come back? When would he be
+rich, so that they might be married? Would it be long?...
+
+Joel found tongue. "We will be married Monday," he said slowly. "We will
+go away--on the _Nathan Ross_--together. I do not want to go alone."
+
+She slipped from his knee, stood before him. "Why, Joel! You're--you're
+just crazy to think of it."
+
+He shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I have thought all about it. It is
+the best thing to do. We will be married Monday; and we will make a
+bigger cabin on the--_Nathan Ross_...." His voice always slowed a little
+as he spoke the name of his first ship. "You will be happy on her," he
+said. "You will like it all.... The sea...."
+
+She returned to his knee, tumbling his hair. "You silly! Men don't
+understand. Why, I couldn't be ready for ever so long. And I wouldn't
+dare go away with you. For so awfully long. I just couldn't...." Her eyes
+misted with thought, and she said quite seriously: "Why, Joel, we might
+find we didn't like each other at all. But we'd be on the ship, with no
+way to get away from it ... for three years. Don't you see?"
+
+Joel said calmly: "That is not so; because we know about--liking each
+other, already. I know how it is with you. It is clothes that you are
+thinking about. Well, you can get them in the stores. And you have many,
+already. You have new dresses whenever I see you...."
+
+She laughed gayly. "But, Joel, you only see me once in three years. Of
+course I have new dresses, then. But I just couldn't...."
+
+She laughed again, a faint uneasiness in her laughter. She left his knee,
+and sat down soberly beside him. She was feeling a little crushed,
+smothered ... as though she were being pushed back against a wall. Joel
+said steadily:
+
+"Mr. Worthen will be glad to know you go with me. And every one will be
+glad for you...."
+
+She burst, abruptly, into tears. She was miserable, she told him. He was
+making her miserable. She hated to be bullied, and he was trying to bully
+her. She hated him. She wouldn't marry him. Never. He could go off on his
+old ship and never come back. That was all. She would not go; and he
+ought not to ask her to, anyway. To prove how much she hated him, she
+nestled against his side, and his arm enfolded her.
+
+Joel had not the outward seeming of a wise man; nevertheless he now said:
+
+"The other girls will all be envying you. To be married so quickly, and
+carried away the very next day...." Her sobs miraculously ceased, and he
+smiled quietly down upon her dark head against his breast. "Every one
+will do things for you.... The whole town.... They will come down to see
+us sail away."
+
+He fell silent, leaving his words for her consideration. She remained
+very quiet against his side for a long time, breathing very softly. He
+thought he could almost read her thoughts....
+
+"It will be," he said, "like a story. Like a romance." And the word
+sounded strangely on his sober lips.
+
+But at the word, the girl sat up quickly, both hands gripping his arm. He
+could see her eyes dancing in the moonlight.... "Oh, Joe," she cried, "it
+would really be just loads of fun. And terribly romantic.... Wonderful!"
+She pressed a hand to her cheek, thinking: "And I could...."
+
+She could, she said, do thus and so....
+
+Joel listened, and he smiled. For he knew that his bride would sail away
+with him.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+In the few days that remained before the _Nathan Ross_ was to sail, there
+was no time for remodeling her cabin to accommodate Priscilla; so that
+was left for the first weeks of the cruise. There were matters enough,
+without it, to occupy those last days. Little Priss was caught up like a
+leaf in the wind; she was whirled this way and that in a pleasant and
+heart-stirring confusion. And through it all, her laughter rang in the
+air like the sound of bells. To Joel, Sunday night, she said: "Oh, Joe
+... it's been an awful rush. But it's been such fun.... And I never was
+so happy in my life."
+
+And Joel smiled, and said quietly: "Yes--with happier times to come."
+
+She looked up at him wistfully. "You'll be good to me, won't you, Joel?"
+He patted her shoulder.
+
+They were married in the big old white church, and every pew was filled.
+Afterwards they all went down to the piers, where Asa Worthen had spread
+long tables and loaded them so that they groaned. Alongside lay the
+_Nathan Ross_, her decks littered with the last confusion of preparation.
+Joel showed Priscilla the lumber for the cabin alterations, ranked along
+the rail beneath the boathouse; and she gripped his arm tight with both
+hands. Afterwards, he took Priscilla up the hill to the great House of
+Shore. Rachel had prepared their wedding supper there....
+
+At a quarter before ten o'clock the next morning, the _Nathan Ross_ went
+out with the tide. When she had cleared the dock and was fairly in the
+stream, Joel gave her in charge of Jim Finch; and he and Priscilla stood
+in the after house, astern, and looked back at the throng upon the pier
+until the individual figures merged into a black mass, pepper-and-salted
+with color where the women stood. They could see the handkerchiefs
+flickering, until a turn of the channel swept them out of sight of the
+town, and they drifted on through the widening mouth of the bay, toward
+the open sea. At dusk that night, there was still land in sight behind
+them and on either side; but when Priscilla came on deck in the morning,
+there was nothing but blue water and laughing waves. And so she was
+homesick, all that day, and laughed not at all till the evening, when the
+moon bathed the ship in silver fire, and the white-caps danced all about
+them.
+
+The _Nathan Ross_ was in no sense a lovely ship. There was about her none
+of the poetry of the seas. She was designed strictly for utility, and for
+hard and dirty toil. Blunt she was of bow and stern, and her widest point
+was just abeam the foremast, so that she had great shoulders that
+buffeted the sea. These shoulders bent inward toward the prow and met in
+what was practically a right angle; and her stern was cut almost straight
+across, with only enough overhang to give the rudder room. Furthermore,
+her masts had no rake. They stood up stiff and straight as sore thumbs;
+and the bowsprit, instead of being something near horizontal, rose toward
+the skies at an angle close to forty-five degrees. This bowsprit made the
+_Nathan Ross_ look as though she had just stubbed her toe. She carried
+four boats at the davits; and two spare craft, bottom up, on the
+boathouse just forward of the mizzenmast. Three of the four at the davits
+were on the starboard side, and since they were each thirty feet long,
+while the ship herself was scarce a hundred and twenty, they gave her a
+sadly cluttered and overloaded appearance. For the rest, she was painted
+black, with a white checkerboarding around the rail; and her sails were
+smeared and smutty with smoke from burning blubber scraps.
+
+Nevertheless, she was a comfortable ship, and a dry one. She rode waves
+that would have swept a vessel cut on prouder lines; and she was
+moderately steady. She was not fast, nor cared to be. An easy five or six
+knots contented her; for the whole ocean was her hunting ground, and
+though there were certain more favored areas, you might meet whales
+anywhere. Give her time, and she would poke that blunt nose of hers right
+'round the world, and come back with a net profit anywhere up to a
+hundred and fifty thousand dollars in her sweating casks.
+
+Priscilla Holt knew all these things, and she respected the _Nathan Ross_
+on their account. But during the first weeks of the cruise, she was too
+much interested in the work on the cabin to consider other matters. Old
+Aaron Burnham, the carpenter, did the work. He was a wiry little man,
+gray and grizzled; and he loved the tools of his craft with a jealous
+love that forbade the laying on of impious hands. Through the long, calm
+days, when the ship snored like a sleep-walker through the empty seas,
+Priscilla would sit on box or bench or floor, and watch Aaron at his
+task, and ask him questions, and listen to the old man's long stories of
+things that had come and gone.
+
+Sometimes she tried to help him; but he would not let her handle an edged
+tool. "Ye'll no have the eye for it," he would say. "Leave it be." Now
+and then he let her try to drive a nail; but as often as not she missed
+the nail head and marred the soft wood, until Aaron lost patience with
+her. "Mark you," he cried, "men will see the scar there, and they'll be
+thinking I did this task with my foot, Ma'am."
+
+And Priscilla would laugh at him, and curl up with her feet tucked under
+her skirts and her chin in her hands, and watch him by the long hour on
+hour.
+
+The task dragged on; it seemed to her endless. For Aaron had other work
+that must be done, and he could give only his spare time to this. Also,
+he was a slow worker, accustomed to take his own time; and when Priscilla
+grew impatient and scolded him, the old man merely sat back on his knees,
+and scratched his head, and tapped thoughtfully with his hammer on the
+floor beside him.
+
+"We-ell, Ma'am," he said, "I do things so, and I do things so; and it
+takes time, that does, Ma'am."
+
+Now and then, through those days, Priscilla's enthusiasm would send her
+skittering up the companion to fetch Joel to see some new wonder--a
+window set in the stern, or a bench completed, or a door hung. And Joel,
+looking far oftener at Priscilla than at the object she wished him to
+consider, would chuckle, and touch her shoulder affectionately, and go
+back to his post.
+
+In the sixth week, the last nail had been driven, and the last lick of
+paint was dry. In the result, Priscilla was as happy as a bride has a
+right to be.
+
+Across the very stern of the ship, with windows looking out upon the
+wake, ran what might have been called a sitting room. It was perhaps
+twenty feet wide and eight feet deep; and its rear wall--formed by the
+overhanging stern--sloped outward toward the ceiling. Against this slope,
+beneath the three windows, a broad, cushioned bench was built, to serve
+as couch or seat. The bench was broken in one place to make room for
+Joel's desk, and the cabinet wherein he kept his records and his
+instruments. Priss had put curtains on the windows; and she had a lily,
+in a pot, at one of them, and a clump of pansies at another. Joel's cabin
+opened off this compartment, on the starboard side; hers was opposite.
+The main cabin, with its folding table built about the thick butt of the
+mizzenmast, had been extended forward to make room for the enlargement of
+this stern apartment; and the mates were quartered off this main cabin.
+The galley and the store rooms were on the main deck, in the after house,
+on either side of the awkward "walking wheel" by which the ship was
+steered; and the cabin companion was just forward of this wheel.
+
+There were aboard the _Nathan Ross_ about thirty men, all told; but the
+most of them were not of Priscilla's world. The foremast hands never came
+aft of the try works, save on tasks assigned; and the secondary
+officers--boat-steerers and the like--slept in the steerage and kept
+forward of the boathouse. Thus the after deck was shared only by
+Priscilla and Joel, the mates, the cook, and old Aaron, who was a man of
+many privileges.
+
+This world, Priscilla ruled. Joel adored her; Jim Finch gave her the
+clumsy homage of a puppy--and was at times just as oppressively amiable.
+Old Aaron talked to her by the hour, while he went about his work. And
+the other mates--Varde, the sullen; and Hooper, who was old and losing
+his grip; and Dick Morrell, who was young and finding his--paid her the
+respect that was her due. Young Morrell--he was not even as old as she
+was--helped her on her first climb to the mast head. He was only a
+boy.... The girl, when the first homesick pangs were past, was happy.
+
+Until the day they killed their whale, a seventy-barrel cachalot cow who
+died as peaceably as a chicken, with only a convulsive flop or two when
+the lances found the life. Priscilla took a single glimpse of the
+shuddering, bloody, oily work of cutting in the carcass, and then she
+fled to her cabin and remained there steadfastly until the long task was
+done. The smoke from the bubbling try pots, and the persistent smell of
+boiling blubber sickened her; and the grime that descended over
+everything appalled her dainty soul. Not until the men had cleaned ship
+did she go on deck again; and even then she scolded Joel for the affair
+as though it were a matter for which he was wholly to blame.
+
+"There just isn't any sense in making so much dirt," she told him. "I've
+had to wash out every one of my curtains; and I can't ever get rid of
+that smell."
+
+Joel chuckled. "Aye, the smell sticks," he agreed. "But you'll be used to
+it soon, Priss. You'll come to like it, I'm thinking. Any case, we'll not
+be rid of it while the cruise is on."
+
+She was so angry that she wanted to cry. "Do you actually mean, Joel
+Shore, that I've got to live with that sickening, hot-oil smell for
+th-three years?"
+
+He nodded slowly. "Yes, Priss. No way out of it. It's part of the work.
+Come another month, and you'll not mind at all."
+
+She said positively: "I may not say anything, but I shall always hate
+that smell."
+
+His eyes twinkled slowly; and she stamped her foot. "If I'd known it was
+going to be like this, I wouldn't have come, Joel. Now don't you laugh at
+me. If there was any way to go back, I'd go. I hate it. I hate it all.
+You ought not to have brought me...."
+
+They were on the broad bench across the stern, in their cabin; and he put
+his big arm about her shoulders and laughed at her till she could do no
+less than laugh back at him. But--she assured herself of this--she was
+angry, just the same. Nevertheless, she laughed....
+
+Joel had put the _Nathan Ross_ on the most direct southward course,
+touching neither Azores nor Cape Verdes. For it was in his mind, as he
+had told Asa Worthen, to make direct for the Gilbert Islands and seek
+some trace of his brother there. That had been his plan before he left
+port; but the plan had become determination after a word with Aaron
+Burnham, one day. Joel, resting in the cabin while old Aaron worked
+there, fell to thinking of his brother, and so asked:
+
+"Aaron, what is your belief about my brother, Mark Shore? Is he dead?"
+
+Aaron was building, that day, the forward partition of the new cabin,
+fitting his boards meticulously, and driving home each nail with hammer
+strokes that seemed smooth and effortless, yet sank the nail to the head
+in an instant. He looked up over his shoulder at Joel, between nails.
+
+"Dead, d'ye say?" he countered quizzically.
+
+Joel nodded. "The Islanders? Did they do it, do you believe?"
+
+Old Aaron chuckled asthmatically. He had lost a fore tooth, and the
+effect of his mirth was not reassuring. "There's a brew i' the Islands,"
+he said. "More like 'twas the island brew nor the island men."
+
+Joel, for a moment, sat very still and considered. He knew Mark Shore had
+never scrupled to take strong drink when he chose; but Mark had always
+been a strong man to match his drink, and conquer it. Said Joel,
+therefore, after a space of thought:
+
+"Why do you think that, Aaron? Drink was never like to carry Mark away."
+
+Aaron squinted up at him. "Have ye sampled that island brew? 'Tis made of
+pineapples, or sago, or the like outlandish stuff, I've heard. And one
+sip is deviltry, and two is madness, and three is corruption. Some
+stomachs are used to it; they can handle it. But a raw man...."
+
+There was significance in the pause, and the unfinished sentence. Joel
+considered the matter. There had always been, between him and Mark,
+something of that sleeping enmity that so often arises between brothers.
+Mark was a man swift of tongue, flashing, and full of laughter and hot
+blood; a colorful man, like a splash of pigment on white canvas. Joel was
+in all things his opposite, quiet, and slow of thought and speech, and
+steady of gait. Mark was accustomed to jeer at him, to taunt him; and
+Joel, in the slow fashion of slow men, had resented this. Nevertheless,
+he cast aside prejudice now in his estimate of the situation; and he
+asked old Aaron:
+
+"Do you know there were Islanders about? Or this wild brew you speak of?"
+
+Aaron drove home a nail, and with his punch set it flush with the soft
+wood. "There was some drunken crew, shouting and screeching a mile up the
+beach," he said. "Some few of them came off to us with fruit. The sober
+ones. 'Twas them Mark Shore went to pandander with."
+
+"He went to them?" Joel echoed. Aaron nodded.
+
+"Aye. That he did."
+
+There was a long moment of silence before Joel asked huskily: "But was it
+like that he should stay with them freely?" For it is a black and
+shameful thing that a captain should desert his ship. When he had asked
+the question, he waited in something like fear for the carpenter's
+answer.
+
+"It comes to me," said Aaron slowly at last, "that you did not well know
+your brother. Ye'd only seen him ashore. And--I'm doubting that you knew
+all the circumstances of his departure from this ship."
+
+"I know that he went ashore," said Joel. "Went ashore, and left his men,
+and departed; and I know that they searched for him three weeks without a
+sign."
+
+Aaron sat back on his heels, and rubbed the smooth head of his hammer
+thoughtfully against his dry old cheek. "I'm not one to speak harm," he
+said. "And I've said naught, in the town. But--you have some right to
+know that Mark Shore was not a sober man when he left the ship. I' truth,
+he had not been sober--cold sober--for a week. And he left with a bottle
+in his coat." He nodded his gray old head, eyes not on Joel, but on the
+hammer in his hand. "Also, there was a pearling schooner in the lagoon,
+with drunk white men aboard."
+
+He glanced sidewise at Joel then, and saw the Captain's cheek bones
+slowly whiten. Whereupon old Aaron bent swiftly to his task, half fearful
+of what he had said. But when Joel spoke, it was only to say quietly:
+
+"Asa should have told me this."
+
+Aaron shook his head vehemently, but without looking up from his task.
+"Not so," he said. "There was no need the town should chew Mark's name.
+Better--" He glanced at Joel. "Better if he were thought dead. Asa's a
+good man, you mind. And--he knew your father."
+
+Joel nodded at that. "Asa meant wisest, I've no doubt," he agreed.
+"But--Mark would do nothing that he was shamed of."
+
+"Mark Shore," said Aaron thoughtfully, "did many things without shame for
+which other men would have blushit."
+
+Joel said curtly: "Aaron, ye'll say no more such things as that."
+
+"Ye're right," Aaron agreed. "I should no have said it. But--'tis so."
+
+Joel left him and went on deck, and his eyes were troubled.... Priss was
+there, with Dick Morrell showing her some trick of the wheel, and they
+were laughing together like children. Joel felt immensely older than
+Priss.... Yet the difference was scarce six years.... She saw him, and
+left Morrell and came running to Joel's side. "Did you sleep?" she asked.
+"You needed rest, Joe."
+
+"I rested," he told her, smiling faintly. "I'll be fine...."
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+They drifted past Pernambuco, and touched at Trinidad, and so worked
+south and somewhat westward for Cape Horn. And in Joel grew, stronger and
+ever, the resolve to hunt out Mark, and find him, and fetch him home....
+The blood tie was strong on Joel; stronger than any memory of Mark's
+derision. And--for the honor of the House of Shore, it were well to prove
+the matter, if Mark were dead. It is not well for a Shore to abandon his
+ship in strange seas.
+
+He asked Aaron, two weeks after their first talk, whether they had
+questioned the white men on the pearling schooner.
+
+"Oh, aye," said Aaron cheerfully. "I sought 'em out, myself. Three of
+them, they was; and ill-favored. A slinky small man, and a rat-eyed large
+man, and a fat man in between; all unshaven, and filthy, and drunken as
+owls. They'd seen naught of Mark Shore, they said. I'm thinking he'd let
+them see but little of him. He had no tenderness for dirt."
+
+Joel told Priss nothing of what he hoped and feared; nor did he question
+Jim Finch in the matter. Finch was a good man at set tasks, but he was
+too amiable, and he had no clamp upon his lips.... Joel did not wish the
+word to go abroad among the men. He was glad that most of the crew were
+new since last voyage; but the officers were unchanged, save that he
+stood in his brother's shoes.
+
+They left Trinidad behind them, and shouldered their way southward, the
+blunt bow of the _Nathan Ross_ battering the seas. And they came to the
+Straits, and worked in, and made their westing day by day, while little
+Priss, wide-eyed on the deck, watched the gaunt cliffs past whose
+wave-gnawed feet they stole. And so at last the Pacific opened out before
+them, and they caught the winds, and worked toward Easter Island.
+
+But their progress was slow. To men unschooled in the patience of the
+whaling trade, it would have been insufferably slow. For they struck
+fish; and day after day they hung idle on the waves while the trypots
+boiled; and day after day they loitered on good whaling grounds, when the
+boats were out thrice and four times between sun's rise and set. If Joel
+was impatient, he gave no sign. If his desires would have made him hasten
+on, his duty held him here, where rich catches waited for the taking; and
+while there were fish to be taken, he would not leave them behind.
+
+Priscilla hated it. She hated the grime, and the smoke, and the smell of
+boiling oil; and she hated this dawdling on the open seas, with never a
+glimpse of land. More than once she made Joel bear the brunt of her own
+unrest; and because it is not always good for two people to be too much
+together, and because she had nothing better to do, she began to pick
+Joel to pieces in her thoughts, and fret at his patience and stolidity.
+She wished he would grow angry, wished even that he might be angry with
+her.... She wished for anything to break the long days of deadly calm.
+And she watched Joel more intently than it is well for wife to watch
+husband, or for husband to watch wife.
+
+He did so many things that tried her sore. He had a fashion, when he had
+finished eating, of setting his hands against the table and pushing
+himself back from the board with slow and solid satisfaction. She came to
+the point where she longed to scream when he did this. When they were at
+table in the main cabin, she watched with such agony of trembling nerves
+for that movement of his that she forgot to eat, and could not relish
+what she ate.
+
+Joel was a man, and his life was moving smoothly. His ship's casks were
+filling more swiftly than he had any right to hope; his wife was at his
+side; his skies were clear. He was happy, and comfortable, and well
+content. Sometimes, when they were preparing for sleep, at night, in the
+cabin at the stern, he would relax on the couch there. But she did not
+wish for him to put his feet upon the cushions; she said that his shoes
+were dirty. He offered to take off his shoes; and she shuddered....
+
+He had a fashion of stretching and yawning comfortably as he bade her
+good night; and sometimes a yawn caught him in the middle of a word, and
+he talked while he yawned. She hated this. She was passing through that
+hard middle ground, that purgatory between maidenhood and wifehood in the
+course of which married folk find each other only human, after all. And
+she had not yet come to accept this condition, and to glory in it. She
+had always thought of Joel as a hero, a protector, a fine, stalwart,
+able, noble man. Now she forgot that he was commander of this ship and
+master of the men aboard her, and saw in him only a man who, when work
+was done, liked to take his ease--and who talked through his yawns.
+
+She gnawed at this bone of discontent, in the hours when Joel was busy with
+his work. She was furiously resentful of Joel's flesh-and-bloodness.... And
+Joel, because he was too busy to be introspective, continued calmly happy
+and content.
+
+The whales led them past Easter Island for a space; and then, abruptly,
+they were gone. Came day on day when the men at the masthead saw no misty
+spout against the wide blue of the sea, no glistening black body lying
+awash among the waves. And the Nathan Ross, with all hands scrubbing
+white the decks again, bent northward, working toward that maze of tiny
+islands which dots the wide South Seas.
+
+Their water was getting stale, and running somewhat low; and they needed
+fresh foodstuffs. Joel planned to touch at the first land that offered.
+Tubuai, that would be. He marked their progress on the chart.
+
+On the evening before they would reach the island, when Joel and Priss
+were preparing for sleep, Priss burst out furiously, like a teapot that
+boils over. The storm came without warning, and--so far as Joel could
+see--without provocation. She was sick, she said, of the endless wastes
+of blue. She wanted to see land. To step on it. If she were not allowed
+to do so very soon, she would die.
+
+Joel, at first, was minded to tell her they would sight land in the
+morning; then, with one of the blundering impulses to which husbands fall
+victim at such moments, he decided to wait and surprise her. So, instead
+of telling her, he chuckled as though at some secret jest, and tried to
+quiet her by patting her dark head.
+
+She fell silent at his caress; and Joel thought she was appeased. As a
+matter of fact, she was hating him for having laughed at her; and her
+calm was ferocious. He discovered this, too late....
+
+He had just kissed her good night. She turned her cheek to his lips; and
+he was faintly hurt at this. But he only said cheerfully: "There,
+Priss.... You'll be all right in the morning...."
+
+He yawned in mid-sentence, so that the last two or three words sounded as
+though he were trying to swallow a large and hot potato while he uttered
+them. Priss could stand no more of that. Positively. So she slapped his
+face.
+
+He was amazed; and he stood, looking at her helplessly, while the slapped
+cheek grew red and red. Priss burst into tears, stamped her foot, called
+him names she did not mean, and as a climax, darted into her own cabin,
+and swung the door, and snapped the latch.
+
+Joel did not in the least understand; and he went to his bunk at last,
+profoundly troubled.
+
+An hour after they anchored, the next day, at Tubuai, a boat came out
+from shore and ran alongside, and Mark Shore swung across the rail,
+aboard the _Nathan Ross_.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+Mark Shore held something like a reception, on the _Nathan Ross_, all
+that first day. He went forward among the men to greet old friends and
+meet new ones, and came back and complimented Joel on the quality of his
+crew. "You've made good men of them," he said. "Those that weren't good
+men before."
+
+He listened, with a smile half contemptuous, to Jim Finch's somewhat
+slavish phrases of welcome and admiration; and he talked with Varde, the
+morose second mate, so gayly that even Varde was cozened at last into a
+grin. Old Hooper was pathetically glad to see him. Hooper had been mate
+of the ship on which Mark started out as a boy; and he liked to hark back
+to those days. Young Dick Morrell, on his trips from the shore, gave Mark
+frank worship.
+
+Joel saw all this. He could not help seeing it. And he told himself,
+again and again, that it was only to be expected. Mark had captained this
+ship, had captained these men, on their last cruise; they had thought him
+dead. It was only natural that they should welcome him back to life
+again....
+
+But even while he gave himself this reassurance, he knew that it was
+untrue. There was more than mere welcome in the attitude of the men;
+there was more than admiration. There was a quality of awe that was akin
+to worship; and there was, beneath this awe, a lively curiosity as to
+what Mark would do.... They knew him for a quick man, dominant, one with
+the will to lead; and now he found himself supplanted, dependent on the
+word of his own younger brother.... Every one knew that Mark and Joel had
+always been rather enemies than comrades; so, now, they wondered, and
+waited, and watched with all their eyes. Joel saw them, by twos and
+threes, whispering together about the ship; and he knew what it was they
+were asking each other.
+
+Of all those on the _Nathan Ross_ that day, Mark himself seemed least
+conscious of the dramatic possibilities of the situation. He was glad to
+be back among friends; but beyond that he did not go. He gave Joel an
+exaggerated measure of respect, so extreme that it was worse than scorn
+or mockery. Otherwise, he took no notice of the potentialities created by
+his return.
+
+Priss had planned to go ashore in the afternoon; but Mark dissuaded her.
+This was not difficult; he did it so laughingly and so dextrously that
+Priss changed her mind without knowing just why she did so. Mark took it
+upon himself to make up for her disappointment; they were together most
+of the long, hot afternoon. Joel could hear their laughter now and then.
+
+He had expected to go ashore with Priss; but when she came to him and
+said: "Joel, Mark says it's just dirty and hot and ugly, ashore, and I'm
+not going," he changed his mind. There was no need of his making the
+trip, after all. Varde and Morrell had brought out water, towing long
+strings of almost-filled casks behind their boats; and boats from the
+shore had come off to sell fresh food. So at dusk, the anchor came up,
+and the _Nathan Ross_ spread her dingy sails, and stalked out of the
+harbor with the utmost dignity in every stiff line of her, and the night
+behind them swallowed up the island. Mark and Priss were astern to watch
+it blend in the darkness and lose itself; and Priss, when their last
+glimpse of it faded, heard the man draw a deep breath of something like
+relief. She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
+
+"What is it?" she asked softly. "Were you--unhappy there?"
+
+Mark laughed aloud. "My dear Priss," he said, in the elder-brother manner
+he affected toward her. "My dear Priss, the South Sea Islands are no
+place for a white man, especially when he is alone. I'm glad to get back
+in the smell of oil, with an honest deck underfoot. And I don't mind
+saying so."
+
+Priss shuddered, and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, how I hate that smell," she
+exclaimed. "But, Mark--tell me where you've been, and what you did,
+and--everything. Why won't you tell?"
+
+He wagged his head at her severely. "Children," he said, "should be seen
+and not heard."
+
+She stamped her foot. "I'm not a child. I'm a woman."
+
+He bent toward her suddenly, his dark eyes so close to hers that she
+could see the flickering flame which played in them, and the twist of his
+smile. "I wonder!" he whispered. "Oh--I wonder if you are...."
+
+She was frightened, deliciously....
+
+Mark had persisted, all day long, in his refusal to tell her of himself.
+He had dropped a sentence now and then that brought to life in her
+imagination a strange, wild picture.... But always he set a bar upon his
+lips, caught back the words, refused to explain what it was he had meant
+to say. When she persisted, he laughed at her and told her he only did it
+to be mysterious. "Mystery is always interesting, you understand," he
+explained. "And--I wish to be very interesting to you, Priss."
+
+She looked around the after deck for Joel; but he was below in the cabin,
+and she decided, abruptly, that she must go down....
+
+They had bought chickens at Tubuai, and they had two of them, boiled, for
+supper that night in the cabin. It was a feast, after the long months of
+sober diet; and the presence of Mark made it something more. He was a
+good talker, and without revealing anything of the months of his
+disappearance, he nevertheless told them stories that held each one
+breathless with interest. But after supper, he went on deck with Finch,
+and Joel and Priss sat in the cabin astern for a while; and Joel wrote
+up, in the ship's log, the story of his brother's return. Priss read it
+over his shoulder, and afterwards she clung close to Joel. "He's a
+terribly--overwhelming man, isn't he?" she whispered.
+
+Joel looked down at her, and smiled thoughtfully. "Aye, Mark's a big
+man," he agreed. "Big--in many ways. But--you'll be used to him
+presently, Priss."
+
+When she prepared to go to bed, he bade her good night and left her, and
+went on deck; and Priss, in her narrow bunk in the cabin at the side of
+the ship, lay wide-eyed with many thoughts stirring in her small head.
+She was still awake when she heard them come down into the main cabin
+together, Joel and Mark. The walls were thin; she could hear their words,
+and she heard Mark ask: "Sure Priss is asleep? There are parts--not for
+the pretty ears of a bride, Joel."
+
+Priss was not asleep, but when Joel came to see, she closed her eyes, and
+lay as still as still, scarce breathing. Joel bent over her softly; and
+he touched her head, clumsily, with his hand, and patted it, and went
+away again, closing her door behind him. She heard him tell Mark: "Aye,
+she's fast asleep."
+
+The brothers sat by Joel's desk, in the cabin across the stern; and Mark,
+without preamble, told his story there. Priss, ten feet away, heard every
+word; and she lay huddled beneath the blankets, eyes staring upward into
+the darkness of her cabin; and as she listened, she shuddered and
+trembled and shrank at the terror and wonder and ugliness of the tale he
+told. No Desdemona ever listened with such half-caught breath....
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+"You're blaming me," said Mark, when he and Joel were puffing at their
+pipes, "for leaving my ship."
+
+Joel said slowly: "No. But I do not understand it."
+
+Mark laughed, a soft and throaty laugh. "You would not, Joel. You would
+not. For you never felt an overwhelming notion that you must dance in the
+moon upon the sand. You've never felt that, Joel; and--I have."
+
+"I'm not a hand for dancing," said Joel.
+
+Mark seemed to forget that his brother sat beside him. His eyes became
+misty and thoughtful, as though he were living over again the days of
+which he spoke. "Mind, Joel," he said, "there's a pagan in every man of
+us. And there's two pagans in some of us. And I'm minded, Joel, that
+there are three of them in me. 'Twas so, that night."
+
+"It was night when you left the ship?"
+
+"Aye, night. Night, and the moon; and it may have been that I had been
+drinking a drop or two. Also, as you shall see, I was not well. I tell
+these things, not by way of excuse and palliation; but only so that you
+may understand. D'ye see? I was three pagans in one body, and that body
+witched by moon, and twisted by drink, and trembling with fever. And so
+it was I went ashore, and flung my men behind me, and went off, dancing,
+along the hard sand.
+
+"That was a night, Joel. A slow-winded, warm, trembling night when there
+was a song in the very air. The wind tingled on your throat like a
+woman's finger tips; and the sea was singing at the one side, and the
+wind in the palms on the other. And ahead of me, the wild, discordant
+chanting of the Islanders about their fires.... That singing it was that
+got me by the throat, and led me. I twirled around and around, very
+solemnly, by myself in the moonlight on the sand; and all the time I went
+onward toward the fires....
+
+"I remember, when I came in sight of the fires, I threw away my coat and
+ran in among them. And they scattered, and yelled their harsh,
+meaningless, throaty yells. And they hid in the bush to stare at me by
+the fire.... They hid in the rank, thick grasses. All except one, Joel."
+
+Joel, listening, watched his brother and saw through his brother's eyes;
+for he knew, for all his slow blood, the witchery of those warm, southern
+nights.
+
+"The moon was on her," said Mark. "The moon was on her, and there was a
+red blossom in her hair, and some strings of things that clothed her. A
+little brown girl, with eyes like the eyes of a deer. And--not afraid of
+me. That was the thing that got me, Joel. She stood in my path, met me,
+watched me; and her eyes were not afraid....
+
+"She was very little. She was only a child. I suppose we would call her
+sixteen or seventeen years old. But they ripen quickly, Joel--these
+Island children. Her little shoulders were as smooth and soft.... You
+could not even mark the ridge of her collar bones, she was fleshed so
+sweetly. She stood, and watched me; and the others crept out of the
+grasses, at last, and stood about us. And then this little brown girl
+held up her hand to me, and pointed me out to the others, and said
+something. I did not know what it was that she said; but I know now. She
+said that I was sick.
+
+"I did not know then that I was sick. When she lifted her hand to me, I
+caught it; and I began to lead her in a wild dance, in the moonlight,
+about their dying fires. I could see them, in the shadows, their eyeballs
+shining as they watched us.... And they seemed, after a little, to move
+about in a misty, inhuman fashion; and they twisted into strange,
+cloud-like shapes. And I stopped to laugh at them, and my head dropped
+down before I could catch it and struck against the earth, and the earth
+forsook me, Joel, and left me swimming in nothing at all....
+
+"My memory was a long time in coming back to me, Joel. It would peep out
+at me like a timid child, hiding among the trees. I would see it for an
+instant; then 'twould be gone. But I know it must have been many days
+that I was on the island there. And I knew, after a time, that I was most
+extremely sick; and the little brown girl put cool leaves on my head, and
+gave me strange brews to drink, and rubbed and patted my chest and my
+body with her hands in a fashion that was immensely comfortable and
+strengthening. And I twisted on a bed of coarse grass.... And I remember
+singing, at times...."
+
+He looked toward Joel, eyes suddenly flaming. "Eh, Joel, I tell you I was
+not three pagans, but six, in those days. The thing's clear beyond your
+guessing, Joel. But it was big. An immense thing. I was back at the
+beginning of the world, with food, and drink, and my woman.... It was
+big, I tell you. Big!"
+
+His eyes clouded--he fell silent, and so at last went on again. "I was
+asleep one night, tossing in my sleep. And something woke me. And I laid
+my hand on the spot beside me where the little brown girl used to lie,
+and she was gone. So I got up, unsteadily. There were rifles snapping in
+the night; and there were screams. And I heard a white man's black curse;
+and the slap of a blow of flesh on flesh. And the screams.
+
+"So I went that way; and the sounds retreated before me, until I came
+out, unsteadily, upon the open beach. There was no moon, that night; and
+the water of the lagoon was shot with fire. And there was a boat, pulling
+away from the beach, with screaming in it.
+
+"I swam after the boat for a long time, for I thought I had heard the
+voice of the little brown girl. The water was full of fire. When I lifted
+my arms, the fire ran down them in streams and drops. And sometimes I
+forgot what I was about, and stopped to laugh at these drops of fire. But
+in the end, I always swam on. I remember once I thought the little brown
+girl swam beside me, and I tried to throw my arm about her, and she
+wrenched away, and she burned me like a brand. I found, afterwards, what
+that was. My breast and sides were rasped and raw where a shark's rough
+skin had scraped them. I've wondered, Joel, why the beast did not take
+me....
+
+"But he did not; for I bumped at last into the boat, and climbed into it,
+and it was empty. But I saw a rope at the end of it, and I pulled the
+rope, and came to the schooner's stern, and climbed aboard her."
+
+His voice was ringing, exultantly and proudly. "I swung aboard," he said.
+"And I stumbled over fighting bodies on the deck, astern there. And some
+one cried out, in the waist of her; and I knew it was the little brown
+girl. So I left those struggling bodies at the stern, for they were not
+my concern; and I went forward to the waist. And I found her there.
+
+"A fat man had her. She was fighting him; and he did not see me. And I
+put my fingers quietly into his neck, from behind; and when he no longer
+kicked back at me, and no longer tore at my fingers with his, I dropped
+him over the side. I saw a fiery streak in the water where I dropped him.
+That shark was not so squeamish as the one I had--embraced. It may have
+been the other was embarrassed at my ways, Joel. D'ye think that might
+have been the way of it?"
+
+Joel's knuckles were white, where his hand rested on his knee. Mark saw,
+and laughed softly. "There's blood in you, after all, boy," he applauded.
+"I've hopes for you."
+
+Joel said slowly: "What then? What then, Mark?"
+
+Mark laughed. "Well, that was a very funny thing," he said. "You see, the
+other two men, they were busy, astern, with their own concerns. And when
+I had comforted the little brown girl, and sat down on the deck to laugh
+at the folly of it all, she slipped away from me, and went aft, and got
+all their rifles. She brought them to me. She seemed to expect things of
+me. So I, still laughing, for the fever was on me; I took the rifles and
+threw them, all but one, over the side. And I went down into the cabin,
+with the little brown girl, and went to bed; and she sat beside me, with
+the rifle, and a lamp hanging above the door....
+
+"And that was all that happened, until I woke one morning and saw her
+there, and wondered where I was. And my head was clear again. She made me
+understand that the men had sought to come at me, but had feared the
+rifle in her hands....
+
+"And we were in the open sea, as I could feel by the labor of the
+schooner underfoot. So I took the rifle in the crook of my arm, and with
+the little brown girl at my heel, I went up on deck. And we made a
+treaty."
+
+He fell silent for a moment, and Joel watched him, and waited. And at
+last, Mark went on.
+
+"I had been more than a month on the island," he said. "The _Nathan Ross_
+had gone. This schooner was a pearler, and they had the location of a bed
+of shell. They had been waiting till another schooner should leave the
+place, to leave their own way clear. And when that time came, they went
+ashore to get the brown women for companions on that cruise. And they
+made the mistake of picking up my little brown girl, when she ran out of
+the hut. And so brought me down upon them.
+
+"There were two of them left; two whites, and three black men forward,
+who were of no account. And the other two women. These other two were
+chattering together, on the deck astern, when I appeared. They seemed
+content enough....
+
+"The men were not happy. There was a large man with slanting eyes. There
+was Oriental blood in him. You could see that. He called himself Quint.
+But his eyes were Jap, or Chinese; and he had their calm, blank screen
+across his countenance, to hide what may have been his thoughts. Quint,
+he called himself. And he was a big man, and very much of a man in his
+own way, Joel.
+
+"The other was little, and he walked with a slink and a grin. His name
+was Fetcher. And he was oily in his speech.
+
+"When they saw me, they studied me for a considerable time without
+speech. And I stood there, with the rifle in my arm, and laughed at them.
+And at last, Quint said calmly:
+
+"'You took Farrell.'
+
+"'The fat man?' I asked him. He nodded. 'Yes,' I said. 'He took my girl,
+and so I dropped him into the water, and a friend met him there and
+hurried him away.'
+
+"'Your girl?' he echoed, in a nasty way. 'You're that, then?'
+
+"'Am I?' I asked, and shifted the rifle a thought to the fore. And his
+eyes held mine for a space, and then he shook his head.
+
+"'I see that I was mistaken,' he said.
+
+"'Your sight is good,' I told him. 'Now--what is this? Tell me.'
+
+"He told me, evenly and without malice. They had a line on the pearls;
+there were enough for three. I was welcome. And at the end, I nodded my
+consent. The _Nathan Ross_ was gone. Furthermore, there were nine pagans
+in me now; and the prospect of looting some still lagoon, in company with
+these two rats, had a wild flavor about it that caught me. My blood was
+burning; and the sun was hot. Also, they had liquor aboard her. Liquor,
+and loot, and the three women. Pagan, Joel. Pagan! But wild and red and
+raw. There's a glory about such things.... Songs are made of them....
+There was no handshaking; but we made alliance, and crowded on sail, and
+went on our way."
+
+He stopped short, laughed, filled his pipe again, watched Joel. "You're
+shocked with me, boy. I can see it," he taunted mockingly. Joel shook his
+head. "Will you hear the rest?" Mark asked; and Joel nodded. Mark lighted
+his pipe, laughed.... His fingers thrummed on the desk beside him.
+
+"We were a week on the way," he said. "And all pagan, every minute of the
+week. Days when we fought a storm--as bad as I've ever seen, Joel. We
+fought it, holding to the ropes with our teeth, bare to the waist, with
+the wind scourging us. It tore at us, and lashed at us.... And we drove
+the three black men with knives to their work. And the three women stayed
+below, except my little brown girl. She came up, now and then, with dry
+clothes for me.... And I had to drive her to shelter....
+
+"And when there was not the storm, there was liquor; and they had cards.
+We staked our shares in the catch that was to come.... Hour on hour,
+dealing, and playing with few words; and our eyes burned hollow in their
+sockets, and Quint's thin mouth twisted and writhed all the time like a
+worm on a pin. He was a nervous man, for all his calm. A very nervous
+man....
+
+"The fifth day, one of the blacks stumbled in Quint's path, on deck.
+Quint had been losing, at the cards. He slid a knife from his sleeve into
+the man's ribs, and tipped the black over the rail without a word. I was
+twenty feet away, and it was done before I could catch breath. I shouted;
+and Quint turned and looked at me, and he smiled.
+
+"'What is it?' he asked. 'Have you objections to present?' And the
+smeared blade in his hand, and the bubbles still rising, overside. I was
+afraid of the man, Joel. I tell you I was afraid. The only time. Fear's a
+pagan joy, boy. It was like a new drink to me. I nursed it, eating it.
+And I shook my head, humble.
+
+"'No objections,' I said, to Quint. ''Tis your affair.'
+
+"'That was my thought,' he agreed, and passed me, and went astern. I
+stood aside to let him pass, and trembled, and laughed for the joy of my
+fear.
+
+"And then we came to the lagoon, and the blacks began to dive. Only the
+two we had; and there was no sign of Islanders, ashore. But the water was
+shallow, and we worked the men with knives, and they got pearls.
+Sometimes one or two in a day; sometimes a dozen. Do you know pearls,
+Joel? They're sweet as a woman's skin. I had never seen them, before. And
+we all went a little mad over them....
+
+"They made Fetcher hysterical. He laughed too much. They made Quint
+morose. They made me tremble...."
+
+He wiped his hand across his eyes, as though the memory wearied him; and
+he moved his great shoulders, and looked at Joel, and laughed. "But it
+could not last, in that fashion," he said. "It might have been anything.
+It turned out to be the women. I said they seemed content. They did. But
+that may be the way of the blacks. They have a happy habit of life; they
+laugh easily....
+
+"At any rate, we found one morning that Quint's girl was gone. She was
+not on the schooner; and ashore, we found her tracks in the sand. She had
+gone into the trees. And we beat the island, and we did not find her. And
+Quint sweated. All that day.
+
+"That night, he looked at my little brown girl, and touched her shoulder.
+I was across the deck, the girl coming to me with food. I said to him:
+'No. She's mine, Quint.' And he looked at me, and I beat him with my
+eyes. And as his turned from mine, Fetcher and his woman came on deck,
+and Quint tapped Fetcher, and said to him: 'What will you take for her?'
+
+"Fetcher laughed at him; and Quint scowled. And I--for I was minded to
+see sport, came across to them and said: 'Play for her. Play for her!'
+
+"Fetcher was willing; because he had the blood that gambles anything.
+Quint was willing, because he was the better player. They sat down to the
+game, in the cabin, after supper. Poker. Cold hands. Nine of them. Winner
+of five to win....
+
+"Fetcher got two, lost four, got two more. I was dealing. Card by card,
+face upward. I remember those hands. And my little brown girl, and the
+other, watching from the corner.
+
+"The hands on the table grew, card by card. Fetcher got an ace, Quint a
+deuce. Fetcher a queen, Quint a seven. Fetcher a jack, Quint a six.
+Fetcher a ten, Quint a ten. Only the last card to come to each. If
+Fetcher paired any card, he would win. His card came first. It was a
+seven. He was ace, queen high. Quint had deuce, six, seven, ten. He had
+to get a pair to win....
+
+"I saw Quint's hand stir, beneath the table; and I glimpsed a knife in
+it. But before I could speak, or stir, Fetcher dropped his own hand to
+his trouser leg, and I knew he kept a blade there.... So I laughed, and
+dealt Quint's last card....
+
+"A deuce. He had a pair, enough to win....
+
+"He leaned back, laughing grimly; and Fetcher's knife went in beneath the
+left side of his jaw, where the jugular lies. Quint looked surprised, and
+got up out of his chair and lay down quietly across the table. I heard
+the bubbling of his last breath.... Then Fetcher laughed, and called his
+woman, and they took Quint on deck and tipped him overside. The knife had
+been well thrown. Fetcher had barely moved his wrist.... I was much
+impressed with the little man, and told my brown girl so. But she was
+frightened, and I comforted her."
+
+He was silent again for a time, pressing the hot ashes in his pipe with
+his thumb. The water slapped the broad stern of the ship beneath them,
+and Joel's pipe was gurgling. There was no other sound. Little Priss,
+nails biting her palms, thought she would stream if the silence held an
+instant more....
+
+But Mark laughed softly, and went on.
+
+"Fetcher and I worked smoothly together," he said. "The little man was
+very pleasant and affable; and I met him half way. The blacks brought up
+the shells, and we idled through the days, and played cards at night. We
+divided the take, each day; so our stakes ran fairly high. But luck has a
+way of balancing. On the day when we saw the end in sight, we were fairly
+even....
+
+"Fetcher, and the blacks and I went ashore to get fruit from the trees
+there. Plenty of it everywhere; and we were running short. We went into
+the brush together, very pleasantly; and he fell a little behind. I
+looked back, and his knife brushed my neck and quivered in a tree a yard
+beyond me. So I went back and took him in my hands. He had another
+knife--the little man fairly bristled with them. But it struck a rib, and
+before he could use it again, his neck snapped.
+
+"So that I was alone on the schooner, with the two blacks, and Fetcher's
+woman, and the little brown girl.
+
+"Fetcher's woman went ashore to find him and never came back. And I
+decided it was time for me to go away from that place. The pagans were
+dying in me. I did not like that quiet little island any more.
+
+"But the next morning, when I looked out beyond the lagoon, another
+schooner was coming in. So I was uncomfortable with Fetcher's pearls, as
+well as mine, in my pocket. There are some hard men in these seas, Joel;
+and I knew none of them would treasure me above my pearls. So I planned a
+story of misfortune, and I went ashore to hide my pearls under a rock.
+
+"The blacks had brought me ashore. I went out of their sight to do what I
+had to do; and when I came back, after hiding the pearls, I saw them
+rowing very swiftly toward the schooner. And they looked back at me in a
+fearful way. I wondered why; and then four black men came down on me from
+behind, with knives and clubs.
+
+"I had a very hard day, that day. They hunted me back and forth through
+the island--I had not even a knife with me--and I met them here and
+there, and suffered certain contusions and bruises and minor cuts. Also,
+I grew very tired of killing them. They were wiry, but they were small,
+and died easily. So I was glad, when from a point where they had cornered
+me I saw the little brown girl rowing the big boat toward me.
+
+"She was alone. The blacks were afraid to come, I thought. But I found
+afterward that this was not true. They could not come; for they had tried
+to seize the schooner and go quickly away from that place, and the little
+brown girl had drilled them both. She had a knack with the rifle....
+
+"I waded to meet the boat, and she tossed me the gun. I held them off for
+a little, while we drew away from the shore. But when we were thirty or
+forty yards off, I heard rifles from the other schooner, firing past us
+at the blacks in the bush; and the girl stopped rowing. So I turned
+around and saw that one of the balls from the other schooner had struck
+her in the back. So I sat there, in the sun, drifting with the wind, and
+held her in my arms till she coughed and died.
+
+"Then I went out to the other schooner and told them they were bad
+marksmen. They had only been passing by, for copra; and the story I told
+them was a shocking one. They were much impressed, and they seemed glad
+to get away. But the blacks were still on shore, so that I could not go
+back for the pearls; and I worked the schooner out by myself, and shaped
+a course....
+
+"I came to Tubuai, alone thus, a day before you, Joel."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+Even Joel Shore saw the new light in Priscilla's eyes when she met Mark
+at breakfast in the cabin next morning; and it is said husbands are the
+last to see such things.
+
+That story she had heard the night before, the story Mark told Joel in
+the after cabin, had made of him something superhuman in her eyes. He was
+a gigantic, an epic figure; he had lived red life, and fought for his
+life, and killed.... There was Puritan blood in Priscilla; but
+overrunning it was a flood of warmer life, a cross-strain from some
+southern forebear, which sang now in answer to the touch of Mark's words.
+She watched him, that morning, with wide eyes that were full of wonder
+and of awe.
+
+Mark saw, and was immensely amused. He asked her: "Why do you look at me
+like that, little sister? I'm not going to bite...."
+
+Priscilla caught herself, and smiled, and laughed at him. "How do I look
+at you? You're--imagining things, Mark."
+
+"Am I?" he asked. And he touched Joel's arm. "Look at her, Joel, and see
+which of us is right."
+
+Joel was eating his breakfast silently, but he had seen Priscilla's eyes.
+He looked toward her now, and she flushed in spite of herself, and got up
+quickly, and slipped away.... They watched her go, Joel's eyes clouded
+thoughtfully, Mark's shining. And when she was gone, Mark leaned across
+and said to Joel softly, a devil of mischief in his eyes: "She heard my
+tale last night, Joel. She was not asleep. Fooled you...."
+
+Joel shook his head. "No. She was asleep."
+
+Mark laughed. "Don't you suppose I know. I've seen that look in woman's
+eyes before. In the eyes of the little brown girl, the night I dropped
+the fat man overside...."
+
+He sat there, chuckling, when Joel got abruptly to his feet and went on
+deck; and when he came up the companion a little later, he was still
+chuckling under his breath.
+
+After that first morning, Priss was able to cloak her eyes and hide her
+thoughts; and on the surface, life aboard the _Nathan Ross_ seemed to go
+on as before. Mark threw himself into the routine of the work, mixing
+with the men, going off in the boats when there was a whale to be struck,
+doing three men's share of toil. Joel one day remonstrated with him. "It
+is not wise," he said. "You were captain here; you are my brother. It is
+not wise for you to mix, as an equal, with the men."
+
+Mark only laughed at him. "Your dignity is very precious to you, Joel,"
+he mocked. "But as for me--I am not proud. You'd not have me sit aft and
+twiddle my thumbs and hold yarn for little Priss.... And I must be doing
+something...."
+
+He and Jim Finch were much together. Finch always gave Joel careful
+obedience, always handled the ship when he was in charge with smooth
+efficiency. His boat was the best manned and the most successful of the
+four. But he and Joel were not comradely. Joel instinctively disliked the
+big man; and Finch's servility disgusted him. The mate was full of smooth
+and flattering words, but his eyes were shallow.
+
+Mark talked with him long, one morning; and then he left Finch and came
+to Joel, by the after house, chuckling as though at some enormous jest.
+"Will ye look at Finch, there?" he begged.
+
+Joel had been watching the two. He saw Finch now, standing just forward
+of the boat house with flushed cheeks and eyes fixed and hands twitching.
+The big man was powerfully moved by something.... "What is it that's got
+him?" Joel asked.
+
+"I've told him about the pearls," Mark chuckled. "He's wild to be after
+them...."
+
+Joel turned on his brother hotly. "You're mad, Mark," he snapped. "That
+is no word to be loose in the ship."
+
+"I've but told Finch," Mark protested. "It's mirthful to watch the man
+wiggle."
+
+"He'll tell the ship. His tongue wags unceasingly."
+
+Mark lifted his shoulders. "Tell him to be silent. You should keep order
+on your ship, Joel."
+
+Joel beckoned, and Finch came toward them. As he came, he fought for self
+control; and when he stood before them, his lips were twisting into
+something like a smile, and his eyes were shifty and gleaming. Joel said
+quietly:
+
+"Mr. Finch, my brother says he has told you his story."
+
+"Yes, sir," said Finch. "An extraordinary adventure, Captain Shore."
+
+"I think it best the men should know nothing about it," Joel told him.
+"You will please keep it to yourself."
+
+Finch grinned. "Of course, sir. There's no need they should have any
+share in them."
+
+Joel flushed angrily. "We are not going after them. I consider it
+dangerous, and unwise."
+
+Over Finch's fat cheeks swept a twitching grimace of dismay. "But I
+thought...." He looked at Mark, and Mark was chuckling. "It's so easy,
+sir," he protested. "Just go, and get them.... Rich...."
+
+Joel shook his head. "Keep silent about the matter, Finch."
+
+Finch slowly bowed his head, and he smirked respectfully. "Very well,
+Captain Shore," he agreed. "You always know best, sir."
+
+He turned away; and after a little Mark said softly: "You have him well
+trained, Joel. Like a little dog.... I wonder that you can handle men
+so...."
+
+Two days later, Joel knew that either Finch or Mark had told the tale
+anew. Young Dick Morrell came to him with shining eyes. "Is it true, sir,
+that we're going after the pearls your brother hid?" he asked. "I just
+heard...."
+
+Joel gripped the boy's arm. "Who told you?"
+
+Morrell twisted free, half angry. "I--overheard it, sir. Is it true?"
+
+"No," said Joel. "We're a whaler, and we stick to our trade."
+
+Dick lifted both hands, in a gesture almost pleading. "But it would be so
+simple, sir...."
+
+"Keep the whole matter quiet, Morrell," Joel told him. "I do not wish the
+men to know of it. And if you hear any further talk, report it to me."
+
+Morrell's eyes were sulky. He said slowly: "Yes, sir." The set of his
+shoulders, as he stalked forward, seemed to Joel defiant....
+
+Within the week, the whole ship knew the story. Old Aaron Burnham,
+repairing a bunk in the fo'c's'le, heard the men whispering the thing
+among themselves. "Tongues hissing like little serpents, sir," he told
+Joel, in the cabin that night. "All of pearls, and women, and the
+like.... And a shine in their eyes...."
+
+"Thanks, Aaron," Joel said. "I'm sorry the men know...."
+
+"Aye, they know. Be sure of that," Aaron repeated, with bobbing head.
+"And they're roused by what they know. Some say you're going after the
+pearls, and aim to fraud them of their lay. And some say you're a mad
+fool that will not go...."
+
+Joel's fist, on the table, softly clenched. "What else?" he asked.
+
+Aaron watched him sidewise. "There was a whisper that you might be made
+to go...."
+
+Priscilla saw, that night, that Joel was troubled. She and Mark were
+together on the cushioned seat in the after cabin, and Joel sat at his
+desk, over the log. Mark was telling Priss an expurgated version of some
+one of his adventures; and Joel, looking once or twice that way, saw the
+quick-caught breath in her throat, saw her tremulous interest.... And his
+eyes clouded, so that when Priscilla chanced to look toward him, she saw,
+and cried:
+
+"Joel! What's the matter? You look so...."
+
+He looked from one of them to the other for a space; and then his eyes
+rested on Mark's, and he said slowly: "It's in my mind that I'd have done
+best to set you ashore at Tubuai, Mark."
+
+Mark laughed; but Priss cried hotly: "Joel! What a perfectly horrible
+thing to say!" Her voice had grown deeper and more resonant of late, Joel
+thought. It was no longer the voice of a girl, but of a woman.... Mark
+touched her arm.
+
+"Don't care about him," he told her. "That's only brotherly love...."
+
+"He oughtn't to say it."
+
+Joel said quietly: "This is a matter you do not understand, Priscilla.
+You would do well to keep silent. It is my affair."
+
+A month before, this would have swept Priss into a fury of anger; but
+this night, though her eyes burned with slow resentment, she bit her lips
+and was still. A month ago, she would have forgotten over night. Now she
+would remember....
+
+Mark got up, laughed. "He's bad company, Priss," he told her. "Come on
+deck with me."
+
+She rose, readily enough; and they went out through the main cabin, and
+up the companionway. Joel watched them go. They left open the door into
+the cabin, and he heard Varde and Finch, at the table there, talking in
+husky whispers.... It was so, he knew, over the whole ship. Everywhere,
+the men were whispering.... There hung over the _Nathan Ross_ a cloud as
+definite as a man's hand; and every man scowled--save Mark Shore. Mark
+smiled with malicious delight at the gathering storm he had provoked....
+
+Joel, left in the after cabin, felt terribly lonely. He wanted Priss with
+him, laughing, at his side. His longing for her was like a hot coal in
+his throat, burning there. And she had taken sides with Mark, against
+him.... His shoulders shook with the sudden surge of his desire to grip
+Mark's lean throat.... Ashore, he would have done so. But as things were,
+the ship was his first charge; and a break with Mark would precipitate
+the thing that menaced the ship.... He could not fight Mark without
+risking the _Nathan Ross_; and he could not risk the _Nathan Ross_. Not
+even.... His head dropped for an instant in his arms, and then he got up
+quickly, and shook himself, and set his lips.... No man aboard must see
+the trouble in his heart....
+
+He went through the main cabin, and climbed to the deck. There was some
+sea running, and a wind that brushed aside all smaller sounds, so that he
+made little noise. Thus, when he reached the top of the companion, he saw
+two dark figures in the shadows of the boat house, closely clasped....
+
+He stood for an instant, white hot.... His wife, and Mark.... His little
+Priss, and his brother....
+
+Then he went quietly below, and glanced at the chart, and chose a course
+upon it. The nearest land; he and Mark ashore together.... His blood ran
+hungrily at the thought....
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+Priscilla went on deck that night so angry with Joel that she could have
+killed him; and Mark played upon her as a skilled hand plays upon the
+harp. It was such a night as the South Seas know, warm and languorous,
+the wind caressing, and the salt spray stinging gently on the cheek. The
+moon was near the full, and it laid a path of silver on the water. This
+path was like the road to fairyland; and Mark told Priscilla so. He
+dropped into a gay little phantasy that he conceived on the moment, a
+story of fairies, and of dancing in the moonlight, and of a man and a
+woman, hand in hand....
+
+She felt the spell he laid upon her, and struggled against it. "Tell me
+about the last fight, when the little brown girl was killed," she begged.
+
+He had told her snatches of his story here and there; but he had not,
+till that night, spoken of the pearls. When Priss heard of them, she
+swung about and lifted up her face to his, listening like a child. And
+Mark told the story with a tongue of gold, so that she saw it all; the
+lagoon, blue in the sun; and the schooner creeping in from the sea; and
+the hours of flight through the semi-jungle of the island, with the
+blacks in such hot pursuit. He told her of the times when they surrounded
+him, when he fought himself free.... How he got a great stone and gripped
+it in his hand, and how with this stone he crushed the skull of a young
+black with but one eye. Priss shuddered with delicious horror at the
+tale....
+
+She loved best to hear of the little brown girl whom Mark had loved; and
+that would have told either of them, if they had stopped to consider,
+that she did not love Mark. Else she would have hated the other, brown or
+white.... And he told how the brown girl saved him, and gave her life in
+the saving, and how he had stopped at a little atoll on his homeward way
+and buried her.... She had died in his arms, smiling because she lay
+there....
+
+"And the pearls?" Priss asked, when she had heard the story through. "You
+left them there?"
+
+"There they are still," he told her. "Safely hid away."
+
+"How many?" she asked. "Are they lovely?"
+
+"Three big ones, and thirty-two of a fair size, and enough little ones
+and seeds to make a double handful."
+
+"But why did you leave them there?"
+
+"The black men were on the island. They were there, and watchful, and
+very angry."
+
+"Couldn't you have kept them in your pocket?"
+
+He laughed. "That other schooner made me cautious. Man's life is cheap,
+in such matters. And if they guessed I had such things upon me.... If I
+slept too soundly, or the like.... D'ye see?"
+
+She nodded her dark head. "I see. But you'll go back...."
+
+He chuckled at that, and tapped on the rail with one knuckle, in a
+thoughtful way. "I had thought that Joel and I would go, in the _Nathan
+Ross_, and fetch the things away," he said.
+
+"Of course," she exclaimed. "That would be so easy.... I'd love to see
+the--pearls...."
+
+"Easy? That was my own thought," he agreed. Something in his tone
+prompted her question.
+
+"Why--isn't it?"
+
+"Joel objects," he said drily.
+
+"He--won't. But why? I don't understand. Why?"
+
+Mark laughed. "He speaks of a matter of duty, not to risk the ship."
+
+"Is there a risk?"
+
+"No." He chuckled maliciously. "As a matter of cold fact, Priss, I'm
+fearful that Joel is a bit--timid in such affairs."
+
+She flamed at him: "Afraid?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+His eyes shone. "What a loyal little bride? But--I taxed him with it.
+And--that was the word he used...."
+
+She was so angry that she beat upon Mark's great breast with her tiny
+fists. "It's not true! It's not true!" she cried. "You know...."
+
+Abruptly, Mark took fire. She was swept in his arms, clipped there,
+half-lifted from the deck to meet his lips that dipped to hers. She was
+like nothing in his grasp; she could not stir.... And from his lips, and
+circling arms, and great body the hot fire of the man flung through
+her.... She fought him.... But even in that terrific moment she knew that
+Joel had never swept or whelmed her so....
+
+She twisted her face away.... And thus, from the shadow where they stood,
+she saw Joel. He was at the top of the cabin companion, looking toward
+them, his face illumined by the light from below. And she watched for an
+instant, frozen with terror, expecting him to leap toward them and plunge
+at Mark and buffet him....
+
+Joel stood for an instant, unstirring. Then he turned, very quietly, and
+went down stairs again into the cabin....
+
+She thought, sickly, that he had shirked; he had seen, and held his
+hand....
+
+What was it Mark had said? Afraid....
+
+Mark had not seen Joel. He kissed her again. Then she twisted away from
+him, and fled below.
+
+Joel was at his desk. He did not look up at her coming; and she stood for
+an instant, behind him, watching his bent head....
+
+Then she slipped into her own cabin, and snapped the latch, and plunged
+her face in her pillow to stifle bursting sobs.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+The _Nathan Ross_ changed course that day; and the word went around the
+ship. It passed from man to man. There was whispering; and there were
+dark looks, flung toward Joel.
+
+Joel kept the deck all day, silent, and watchful, and waiting. Mark spoke
+to him once or twice, asking what he meant to do. Joel told him nothing.
+He had fought out his fight the night before; he knew himself....
+
+Mark and Finch talked together, during the morning. Joel watched them
+without comment. Later he saw Mark speak to the other mates, one by one.
+At dinner in the cabin, the mates were silent. Their eyes had something
+of shame in them, and something of venomous hate.... They already hated
+Joel, whom they planned to wrong....
+
+The day was fair, and the wind drove them smoothly. There was no work to
+be done, never a spout on the sea. Joel, watching once or twice the
+whispering groups of idle men, wished a whale might be sighted; and once
+he sent Morrell and Varde to find tasks for the men to do, and kept them
+at it through the long afternoon, scraping, scrubbing, painting....
+
+Priss kept to her cabin. When she did not appear at breakfast, Joel went
+to her door and knocked. She called to him: "I've a headache. I'm going
+to rest." He ordered that food be sent to her....
+
+He stayed on deck till late, that night; but with the coming of night the
+ship had grown quiet, and most of the men were below in the fo'c's'le. So
+at last Joel left the deck to Varde, and went below. He sat down at his
+desk and wrote up the day's log....
+
+Priss came to him there. She had been in bed; and she wore a heavy
+dressing gown over her night garments. Her hair was braided, hanging
+across her shoulders. She sat down beside the desk, and when Joel could
+fight back the misery in his eyes, he looked toward her and asked:
+
+"Is your head--better?"
+
+She said very quietly: "Joel, I want to ask you something."
+
+He wanted her sympathy so terribly, and her tone was so cool and so aloof
+that he winced; but he said: "Very well?"
+
+"Mark says he asked you to take the _Nathan Ross_ to get--the pearls he
+left on that island. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes," said Joel.
+
+"He says you would not do it."
+
+"I will not do it," Joel told her.
+
+"He says," said Priss quietly, "that you are afraid. He says that was
+your own word ... when he accused you. Is that true?"
+
+If there had been any sympathy or understanding in her voice or in her
+eyes, he would have told her ... told her that it was for his ship and
+not for himself that he was afraid. But there was not. She was so cold
+and hard.... He would not seek to justify himself to her....
+
+"Yes," he said quietly. "I used that word."
+
+She turned her eyes quickly away from his, that he might not see the pain
+in hers.... She rose to go back to her cabin....
+
+As she reached the door, some one knocked on the door that led to the
+main cabin; and without waiting for word from Joel, that door opened.
+Mark stood there. He came in, with Finch, and Varde, and old Hooper and
+young Morrell on his heels.... Priss shrank back into her cabin, closed
+the door to a crack, listened....
+
+Joel got to his feet. "What is it?" he asked.
+
+Mark bowed low, faced his brother with a cold and triumphant smile.
+"These gentlemen have asked me," he explained, "to tell you that we have
+decided to go fetch the pearls."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+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," he said. "You know, I
+wanted you in this, from the first. Your coming in will--prevent
+complications. With you in, the whole matter is very simple, and safe....
+But without you, we will be forced to take measures that may
+be--reprehensible."
+
+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.... Will you go with us; or do we go
+without you?"
+
+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 them--to avoid
+that blood-spilling you mention."
+
+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 was no further sound in the after cabin.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+Joel lay for an hour, planning what he should do. He could not yield....
+He could not yield, even though he might wish to do so; for the yielding
+would forfeit forever all control over these men, or any others. He could
+not yield....
+
+Yet he did not wish to fight; for the battle would be hopeless, with only
+death at the end for him, and it would ruin the men and lose the ship....
+Blood marks a ship with a mark that cannot be washed away. And Joel loved
+his ship; and he loved his men with something of the love of a father for
+children. Children they were. He knew them. Simple, easily led, easily
+swept by some adventurous vision....
+
+He slept, at last, dreamlessly; and in the morning, when they came to
+him, he told them what he wished to do.
+
+"Call the men aft," he said. "I'll speak to them. We'll see what their
+will is."
+
+Mark mocked him. "Ask the men, is it?" he exclaimed. "Let them vote,
+you'll be saying. Are you master of the ship, man; or just first
+selectman, that you'd call a town meeting on the high seas?"
+
+"I'll talk with the men," said Joel stubbornly.
+
+Varde strode forward angrily. "You'll talk with us," he said. "Yes or no.
+Now. What is it?"
+
+They were in the main cabin. Joel looked at Varde steadily for an
+instant; then he said: "I'm going on deck. You'll come...."
+
+Priss, in the door of the after cabin, a frightened and trembling little
+figure, called to him: "Joel. Joel. Don't...."
+
+He said, without turning: "Stay in your cabin, Priscilla." And then he
+passed between Varde and Finch, at the foot of the companion, and turned
+his back upon them and went steadily up the steep, ladder-like stair.
+Varde made a convulsive movement to seize his arm; but Mark touched the
+man, held him with his eyes, whispered something....
+
+They had left old Hooper on deck. He and Aaron Burnham were standing in
+the after house when Joel saw them. Joel said to the third mate: "Mr.
+Hooper, tell the men to lay aft."
+
+Mark had come up at Joel's heels; and Hooper looked past Joel to Mark for
+confirmation. And Mark smiled mirthlessly, and approved. "Yes, Mr.
+Hooper, call the men," he said. "We're to hold a town meeting."
+
+Old Hooper's slow brain could not follow such maneuvering; nevertheless,
+he bellowed a command. And the harpooners from the steerage, and the men
+from forecastle and fore deck came stumbling and crowding aft. The men
+stopped amidships; and Joel went toward them a little ways, until he was
+under the boat house. The mates stood about him, the harpooners a little
+to one side; and Mark leaned on the rail at the other side of the deck,
+watching, smiling.... The revolvers were in his belt; the rifles leaned
+against the after rail. He polished the butt of one of the revolvers
+while he watched and smiled....
+
+Joel said, without preamble: "Men, the mates tell me that you've heard of
+my brother's pearls."
+
+The men looked at one another, and at the mates. They were a jumbled lot,
+riff-raff of all the seas, Cape Verders, Islanders, a Cockney or two, a
+Frenchman, two or three Norsemen, and a backbone of New England stock.
+They looked at one another, and at the mates, with stupid, questioning
+eyes; and one or two of them nodded in a puzzled way, and the Cape
+Verders grinned with embarrassment. A New Englander drawled:
+
+"Aye, sir. We've heard th' tale."
+
+Joel nodded. "When my brother came aboard at Tubuai," he said quietly,
+"he proposed that we go to this island.... I do not know its position--"
+
+Mark drawled from across the deck: "You know as much as any man
+aboard--myself excepted, Joel. It's my own secret, mind."
+
+"He proposed that we go to this island," Joel pursued, "and that he and I
+go ashore and get the pearls and say nothing about them."
+
+Varde, at Joel's side, swung his head and looked bleakly at Mark Shore;
+and one or two of the men murmured. Joel said quickly: "Don't
+misunderstand. I'm not blaming him for that. You must not. The pearls are
+his. He has a right to them....
+
+"What I want you to know is that I refused to go with him and get them on
+half shares. I could have had half, and refused....
+
+"Now he has spread the story among you. And the mates say that I must go
+with you all, and get the things."
+
+He stopped, and the eyes of the men were on him; and one or two nodded,
+and a voice here and there exclaimed in approval. Joel waited until they
+were quiet again; then he said: "These--pearls--have cost life. At least
+five men and a woman died in the getting of them. If we had them aboard
+here, more of us would die; for none would be content with his share....
+
+"It's in my mind that they'd bring blood aboard the _Nathan Ross_. And I
+have no wish for that. But first--
+
+"How many of you are for going after them?"
+
+There was a murmur of assent from many throats; and Joel looked from man
+to man. "Most of you, at least," he said. "Is there any man against
+going?"
+
+There may have been, but no man spoke; and over Joel's face passed a
+weary little shadow of pain. For a long moment he stood in the sun,
+studying them; and they saw his lips were white. Then he said quietly:
+
+"You shall not go. The _Nathan Ross_ goes on about her proper matters.
+The pearls stay where they are."
+
+He shifted his weight, looked quickly toward his brother.... He was
+poised for battle. By the very force of his word, there was a chance he
+might prevail. He watched the men, in whose hands the answer lay. If he
+could hold them....
+
+Hands clamped his arms, and Mark smiled across the deck. Finch and old
+Hooper on one side, Varde and Morrell on the other. And after the first
+wrench of his surprise, he knew it was hopeless to struggle, and stood
+quietly. Mark strolled across the deck, smiling coldly.
+
+"If you'll not go, Joel, you must be taken," he said. And to the mates:
+"Bring back his arms."
+
+Joel felt the cord slipped through his elbows and drawn tight and looped
+and made secure. Old Aaron Burnham pushed forward and tugged at them; and
+Joel heard him say: "They'll hold him fast, Captain Shore. Like a trussed
+fowl, sir. That he is...."
+
+"Captain Shore?" That would be Mark, come into command of the ship again.
+And Aaron added: "I've set the bolt on his cabin door, sir. Not five
+minutes gone."
+
+Mark laughed. "Good enough, Aaron. You and Varde take him down. Varde,
+you'll stay in the after cabin. If he tries to get free, summon me.
+And--treat Mrs. Shore with the utmost courtesy."
+
+Varde was at Joel's side; and Joel saw the twist of his smile at Mark's
+last word. For a moment, thought of Priss left Joel sick. He thrust the
+thought aside....
+
+They took him down into the main cabin; Varde ahead, then Joel, and old
+Aaron close behind, his hand on Joel's elbow. Priss met them in the after
+cabin, crouching in a corner, white and still, her hands at her throat.
+Her eyes met his for an instant, before Varde led him toward his own
+cabin. Aaron, behind, looked toward Priss; and the girl whispered
+hoarsely:
+
+"Is he--hurt?"
+
+"He is not," said Aaron grimly. "We were most gentle with the man; and he
+made no struggle at all...."
+
+Varde thrust Joel into the little cabin where his bunk was; and Joel
+heard the snick of a new-set bolt on the outer side of the door. He was
+alone, bound fast....
+
+Before he left the deck, he had heard Mark cry an order to the man at the
+wheel. The telltale in the after cabin ceiling told him the _Nathan Ross_
+had changed her course again ... for Mark's island.... In the face of
+men, he had held himself steady and calm.... But now, alone in his cabin,
+he strained at his bonds, lips cracking over set teeth. He strained and
+tugged.... Hopeless....
+
+No! Not hopeless! He felt them yield a little, a little more.... Then,
+with a tiny snap of sound, the coils were loose, and he shook the cords
+down over his wrists and hands. He caught them as they fell across his
+fingers, lest the sound of their fall might warn Varde, in the cabin
+outside his door; and--he was still stupefied by the surprise of this
+deliverance--he lifted the broken bonds and examined them....
+
+A single strand had yielded, loosing all the rest. And where it had
+broken, Joel saw, it had been sliced all but through, with a keen blade.
+
+Who? His thoughts raced back over the brief minutes of his bondage. Who?
+
+No other but Aaron Burnham could have had the chance and the good will.
+Old Aaron.... And Aaron's knives were always razor sharp. Drawn once
+across the tight-stretched cord....
+
+Aaron had freed him. Aaron....
+
+He remembered something else. Aaron's words to Mark on deck. "I've set
+the bolt on his cabin door...."
+
+Aaron had set the new bolt that was the only bar between him and the
+after cabin, where Varde stood watch. Aaron had set the bolt; and Aaron
+had cut his bonds. Therefore--the bolt must be flimsy, easily forced
+away. That would be Aaron's plan. A single thrust would open the way....
+
+He turned toward the door; then caught himself, drew back, dropped on the
+bunk and lay there, planning what he must do.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+The discovery of Aaron's loyalty had been immensely heartening to Joel.
+If Aaron were loyal, there might be others.... Must be.... Not all men
+are false....
+
+He wondered who they would be; he went over the men, one by one, from
+mate to humblest foremast hand. Finch and Varde were surely against him.
+Old Hooper--he and Aaron were cronies, and the other mates had left
+Hooper somewhat out of their movements thus far. Old Hooper might be,
+give him his chance, on Joel's side....
+
+Old Hooper, and Aaron. Two. Dick Morrell? A boy, hot with the wonder and
+glamor of Mark's tale. Easily swung to either side. Joel thought he would
+not swing too desperately to the lawless side. But--he could not be
+counted on. What others were there?
+
+Joel had brought his own harpooner from the _Martin Wilkes_. A big Island
+black. A decent man.... A chance. Besides him, there were three men who
+had served Asa Worthen long among the foremast hands. Uncertain
+quantities. Chances everywhere....
+
+But--he must strike quickly. There was no time to sound them out. When
+his dinner was brought at noon, his broken bonds would be discovered.
+They would be more careful thereafter. Three hours lay before him....
+
+He set himself to listen with all his ears; to guess at what was going on
+above decks, and so choose his moment. He must wait as long as it was
+safe to wait; he must wait till men's bloods ran less hot after the
+crisis of the morning. He must wait till sober second thought was upon
+them....
+
+But there was always the chance to fear that Mark might come down. He
+could not wait too long....
+
+He could hear feet moving on the deck above his head. The _Nathan Ross_
+had run into rougher weather with her change of course; the wind was
+stiffening, and now and then a whisk of spray came aboard. He heard Jim
+Finch's bellowing commands.... Heard Mark's laughter. Mark and Jim were
+astern, fairly over his head.
+
+There were men in the main cabin. The scrape of their feet, the murmur of
+their voices came to him. Dick Morrell and old Hooper, perhaps....
+
+It was through these men that Joel's moment came. Finch, on deck, shouted
+down to them.... Mark had decided to shorten sail, ease the strain on the
+old masts. Joel heard Morrell and Hooper go up to the deck....
+
+That would mean most of the men aloft.... The decks would be fairly
+clear. His chance....
+
+He wished he could know where Varde sat; but he could not be sure of
+that, and he could not wait to guess by listening. He caught up a blanket
+from his bunk, held it open in his hands, drew back--and threw himself
+against the cabin door.
+
+It opened so easily that he overbalanced, all but fell. The screws had
+been set in punch holes so large that the threads scarce took hold at
+all. Joel stumbled out--saw Varde on the cushioned bench which ran across
+the stern. The mate was reading, a book from Joel's narrow shelf. At
+sight of Joel, he was for an instant paralyzed with surprise....
+
+That instant was long enough for Joel. He swept the blanket down upon the
+man, smothering his cries with fold on fold; and he grappled Varde, and
+crushed him, and beat at his head with his fists until the mate's
+spasmodic struggles slackened. Priss had heard the sounds of combat,
+swept out of her cabin, bent above them. He looked up and saw her; and he
+said quietly:
+
+"Get back into your place."
+
+She cried pitifully: "I want to help. Please...."
+
+He shook his head. "This is my task. Quick."
+
+She fled....
+
+He lifted Varde and carried him back to the cabin where he himself had
+been captive; and there, with the cords that had bound his own arms, he
+bound Varde, wrist and ankle; and he stripped away the blanket, and
+stuffed into Varde's mouth a heavy, woolen sock, and tied it there with a
+handkerchief.... Varde's eyes flickered open at the last; and Joel said
+to him:
+
+"I must leave you here for the present. You will do well to lie quietly."
+
+He left the man lying on the floor, and went out into the after cabin and
+salvaged the bolt and screws that had been sent flying by his thrust. He
+put the bolt back in place, pushed the screws into the holes, bolted the
+door.... No trace remained of his escape....
+
+Priss stood in her own door. Without looking at her, he opened the door
+into the main cabin. That apartment was empty, as he had expected. The
+companion stair led to the deck....
+
+But he could not go up that way. Mark and Jim Finch were within reach of
+the top of the stair; he would be at a disadvantage, coming up to them
+from below. He must reach the deck before they saw him.
+
+He crossed the cabin to a lockfast, and opened it, and took out the two
+pairs of heavy ship's irons that lay there. Spring handcuffs that locked
+without a key.... He put one pair in each pocket of his coat.
+
+There was a seldom used door that opened from the main cabin into a
+passage which led in turn to the steerage where the harpooners slept.
+Joel stepped to this door, slipped the bolt, entered the passage, and
+closed the door behind him.
+
+It was black dark, where he stood. The passage was unlighted; and the
+swinging lamp in the steerage did not send its rays this far. The _Nathan
+Ross_ was heeling and bucking heavily in the cross seas, and Joel chose
+his footing carefully, and moved forward along the passage, his hands
+braced against the wall on either side. The way was short, scarce half a
+dozen feet; but he was long in covering the distance, and he paused
+frequently to listen. He had no wish to encounter the harpooners in their
+narrow quarters....
+
+He heard, at last, the muffled sound of a snore; and so covered the last
+inches of his way more quickly. When he was able to look into the place,
+he saw that two of the men were in their bunks, apparently asleep. The
+black whom he had brought from the _Nathan Ross_ was not there. Joel was
+glad to think he was on deck; glad to hope for the chance of his help....
+
+With steps so slow he seemed like a shadow in the semi-darkness, he
+crossed to the foot of the ladder that led to the deck. The men in their
+bunks still slept. He began to climb.... The ship was rolling heavily, so
+that he was forced to grip the ladder tightly.... One of the sleepers
+stirred, and Joel froze where he stood, and watched, and waited for
+endless seconds till the man became quiet once more.
+
+He climbed till his head was on a level with the deck still hidden by the
+sides of the scuttle at the top of the ladder. And there he poised
+himself; for the last steps to the deck must be made in a single rush, so
+quickly that interference would be impossible....
+
+He made them; one ... three.... He stood upon the deck, looked aft....
+
+Mark and Jim Finch stood there, not ten feet away from him. Finch's back
+was turned, but Mark saw Joel instantly; and Joel, watching, saw Mark's
+mouth widen in a broad and mischievously delighted smile.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+At the moment when Joel reached the deck, the other men aboard the
+_Nathan Ross_ were widely scattered.
+
+Varde, the second mate, he had left tied and helpless in the cabin. Two
+of the four harpooners were below in their bunks, asleep. The greater
+part of one watch was likewise below, in the fo'c's'le; and the rest of
+the crew, under Dick Morrell's eye, were shortening sail. In the after
+part of the ship there were only Mark Shore, Finch, a foremast hand at
+the wheel, old Aaron Burnham, and the cook. Of these, Mark, Jim, and the
+man at the wheel were in sight when Joel appeared; and only Mark had seen
+him.
+
+Joel saw his brother smile, and stood for an instant, poised to meet an
+attack. None came. He swept his eyes forward and saw that he need fear no
+immediate interference from that direction; and so he went quietly toward
+the men astern. The broad back of Jim Finch was within six feet of
+him....
+
+What moved Mark Shore in that moment, it is hard to say. It may have been
+the reckless spirit of the man, willing to wait and watch and see what
+Joel would do; or it may have been the distaste he must have felt for Jim
+Finch's slavish adulation; or it may have been an unadmitted admiration
+for Joel's courage....
+
+At any rate, while Joel advanced, Mark stood still and smiled; and he
+gave Finch no warning, so that when Joel touched the mate's elbow, Finch
+whirled with a startled gasp of surprise and consternation, and in his
+first panic, tried to back away. Still Mark made no move. The man at the
+wheel uttered one exclamation, looked quickly at Mark for commands, and
+took his cue from his leader. Finch was left alone and unsupported to
+face Joel.
+
+Joel did not pursue the retreating mate. He stepped to the rail, where
+the whaleboats hung, and called to Finch quietly:
+
+"Mr. Finch, step here."
+
+Finch had retreated until his shoulders were braced against the wall of
+the after house. He leaned there, hands outspread against the wall behind
+him, staring at Joel with goggling eyes. And Joel said again:
+
+"Come here, Mr. Finch."
+
+Joel's composure, and the determination and the confidence in his tone,
+frightened Finch. He clamored suddenly: "How did he get here, Captain
+Shore? Jump him. Tie him up--you--Aaron...."
+
+He appealed to the man at the wheel, and to old Aaron, who had appeared
+in the doorway of the tiny compartment where his tools were stored.
+Neither stirred. Mark Shore, chuckling, stared at Finch and at Joel; and
+Finch cried:
+
+"Captain Shore. Come on. Let's get him...."
+
+Joel said for the third time: "Come here, Finch."
+
+Finch held out a hand to Mark, appealingly. Mark shook his head. "This is
+your affair, Finch," he said. "Go get him, yourself. He's waiting for
+you. And--you're twice his size."
+
+Give Finch his due. With even moral support behind him, he would have
+overwhelmed Joel in a single rush. Without that support, he would still
+have faced any reasonable attack. But there was something baffling about
+Joel's movements, his tones, the manner of his command, that stupefied
+Finch. He felt that he was groping in the dark. The mutiny must have
+collapsed.... It may have been only a snare to trap him.... He was
+alone--against Joel, and with none to support him....
+
+Finch's courage was not of the solitary kind. He took one slow step
+toward Joel, and in that single step was surrender.
+
+Joel stood still, but his eyes held the big man's; and he said curtly:
+"Quickly, Finch."
+
+Finch took another lagging step, another....
+
+Joel dropped his hand in his coat pocket and drew out a pair of irons. He
+tossed them toward Finch; and the mate shrank, and the irons struck him
+in the body and fell to the deck. He stared down at them, stared at Joel.
+
+Joel said: "Pick them up. Snap one on your right wrist. Then put your
+arms around the davit, there, and snap the other...."
+
+Finch shook his head in a bewildered way, as though trying to understand;
+and abruptly, a surge of honest anger swept him, and he stiffened, and
+wheeled to rush at Joel. But Joel made no move either to retreat or to
+meet the attack; and Finch, like a huge and baffled bear, slumped again,
+and slowly stooped, and gathered up the handcuffs....
+
+With them in his hands, he looked again at Joel; and for a long moment
+their eyes battled. Then Joel stepped forward, touched Finch lightly on
+the arm, and guided him toward the rail. Finch was absolutely
+unresisting. The sap had gone out of him....
+
+Joel drew the man's arms around the davit, and snapped the irons upon his
+wrist. Finch was fast there, out of whatever action there was to come.
+And Joel's lips tightened with relief. He stepped back....
+
+He saw, then, that some of the crew had heard, and three or four of them
+were gathering amidships, near the try works. The two harpooners were
+there; and one of them was that black whom Joel had brought from the
+_Martin Wilkes_, and in whom he placed some faith. He eyed these men for
+a moment, wondering whether they were nerved to strike....
+
+But they did not stir, they did not move toward him; and he guessed they
+were as stupefied as Finch by what had happened. So long as the men aft
+allowed him to go free, they would not interfere. They did not
+understand; and without understanding, they were helpless.
+
+He turned his back on them, and looked toward Mark.
+
+Mark Shore had watched Joel's encounter with Finch in frank enjoyment.
+Such incidents pleased him; they appealed to his love for the bold and
+daring facts of life.... He had smiled.
+
+But now Joel saw that he had stepped back a little, perhaps by accident.
+He was behind the man at the wheel, behind the spot where Aaron Burnham
+stood. He was standing almost against the after rail, in the narrow
+corridor that runs fore and aft through the after house....
+
+The pistols were in his belt, and the two rifles leaned on the rail at
+his side. Mark himself was standing at ease, his arms relaxed, his hands
+resting lightly on his hips and his feet apart. He swayed to the movement
+of the ship, balancing with the unconscious ease of long custom.
+
+Joel went toward him, not slowly, yet without haste. He passed old Aaron
+with no word, passed the wheelman, and faced his brother. They were
+scarce two feet apart when he stopped; and there were no others near
+enough to hear, above the slashing of the seas and the whistle of the
+wind, his low words.
+
+He said: "Mark, you've made a mistake. A bad mistake. In--starting this
+mutiny."
+
+Mark smiled slowly. "That's a hard word, Joel. It's in my mind that if
+this is mutiny, it's a very peaceful model."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is just that," said Joel. "It is that, and it is also a
+mistake. And--you are wise man enough to see this. There is still time to
+remedy the thing. It can be forgotten."
+
+Mark chuckled. "If that is true, you've a most convenient memory, Joel."
+
+Joel's cheeks flushed slowly, and he answered: "I am anxious to
+forget--whatever shames the House of Shore."
+
+Mark threw back his head and laughed aloud. "Bless you, boy," he
+exclaimed. "'Tis no shame to you to have fallen victim to our numbers."
+But there was a heat in his tones that told Joel he was shaken. And Joel
+insisted steadily:
+
+"It was not my own shame I feared."
+
+"Mine, then?" Mark challenged.
+
+"Aye," said Joel. "Yours."
+
+Mark bent toward him with a mocking flare of anger in his eyes; and he
+said harshly: "You've spoken too much for a small man. Be silent. And go
+below."
+
+Joel waited for an instant; then his shoulders stirred as though he chose
+a hard course, and he held out his hand and said quietly: "Give me the
+guns, Mark."
+
+Mark stared at him; and he laughed aloud. "You're immense, boy," he
+applauded. "The cool nerve of you...." His eyes warmed with frank
+admiration. "Joel, hark to this," he cried, and jerked his head toward
+the captive Finch. "You've ripped the innards out of that mate of mine.
+I'll give you the job. You're mate of the _Nathan Ross_ and I'm proud to
+have you...."
+
+"I am captain of the _Nathan Ross_," said Joel. "And you are my brother,
+and a--mutineer. Give me the guns."
+
+Mark threw up his hand angrily. "You'll not hear reason. Then--go below,
+and stay there. You...."
+
+There are few men who can stand flat-footed and still hit a crushing
+blow; but Joel did just this. When Mark began to speak, Joel's hands had
+been hanging limply at his sides. On Mark's last word, Joel's right hand
+whipped up as smoothly as a whip snaps; and it smacked on Mark's lean jaw
+with much the sound a whip makes. It struck just behind the point of the
+jaw, on the left hand side; and Mark's head jerked back, and his knees
+sagged, and he tottered weakly forward into Joel's very arms.
+
+Joel's hands were at the other's belt, even as Mark fell. He brought out
+the revolvers, then let Mark slip down to the deck; and he stepped over
+the twitching body of his brother, and caught up the two rifles, and
+dropped them, with the revolvers, over the after rail.
+
+Mark's splendid body had already begun to recover from the blow; he was
+struggling to sit up, and he saw what Joel did, and cried aloud: "Don't
+be a fool, boy. Keep them.... Hell!" For the weapons were gone. Joel
+turned, and looked down at him; and he said quietly:
+
+"While I can help it, there'll be no blood shed on my ship."
+
+Mark swept an arm toward the waist of the ship, and Joel looked and saw a
+growing knot of angry men there. "See them, do you?" Mark demanded.
+"They're drunk for blood. It's out of your hands, Joel. You've thrown
+your ace away. Now, boy--what will you do?"
+
+The men began to surge aft, along the deck.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+THE story of that battle upon the tumbling decks of the _Nathan Ross_ was
+to be told and re-told at many a gam upon the whaling grounds. It was
+such a story as strong men love; a story of overwhelming odds, of epic
+combat, of splendid death where blood ran hot and strong....
+
+There were a full score of men in the group that came aft toward Joel.
+And as they came, others, running from the fo'c's'le and dropping from
+the rigging, joined them. Every man was drunk with the vision of wealth
+that he had built upon Mark Shore's story. The thing had grown and grown
+in the telling; it had fattened on the greed native in the men; and it
+was a monstrous thing now, and one that would not be denied.... The men,
+as they moved aft, made grumbling sounds with their half-caught breath;
+and these sounds blended into a roaring growl like the growl of a beast.
+
+To face these men stood Joel. For an instant, he was alone. Then, without
+word, old Aaron took his stand beside his captain. Aaron held gripped in
+both hands an adze. Its edge was sharp enough to slice hard wood like
+cheese.... And at Joel's other side, the cook. A round man, with greasy
+traces of his craft upon his countenance. He carried a heavy cleaver.
+There is an ancient feud between galley and fo'c's'le; and the men
+greeting the cook's coming with a hungry cry of delight....
+
+Joel glanced at these new allies, and saw their weapons. He took the adze
+from Aaron, the cleaver from the other; and he turned and hurled them
+behind him, over the rail. And in the moment's silence that followed on
+this action, he called to the men:
+
+"Go back to your places."
+
+They growled at him; they were wordless, but they knew the thing they
+desired. The cook complained at Joel's elbow: "I could use that cleaver."
+
+"I'll not have blood spilled," Joel told him. "If there's fighting, it
+will be with fists...."
+
+And Mark touched Joel lightly on the shoulder, and took his place beside
+him. He was smiling, a twisted smile above the swollen lump upon his jaw.
+He said lightly: "If it's fists, Joel--I think I'm safest to fight beside
+you."
+
+Joel looked up at him with a swift glance, and he brushed his hand across
+his eyes, and nodded. "I counted on that, Mark--in the last, long run,"
+he said. Mark gripped his arm and pressed it; and in that moment the
+long, unspoken enmity between the brothers died forever. They faced the
+men....
+
+One howled like a wolf: "He's done us. Done us in."
+
+And another: "They're going to hog it. Them two...."
+
+The little sea of scowling, twisting faces moved, it surged forward....
+The men charged, more than a score, to overwhelm the four.
+
+In the moment before, Joel had marked young Dick Morrell, at one side,
+twisted with indecision; and in the instant when the men moved, he
+called: "With us, Mr. Morrell."
+
+It was command, not question; and the boy answered with a shout and a
+blow.... On the flank of the men, he swept toward them. And Joel's
+harpooner, and one of Asa Worthen's old men formed a triumvirate that
+fought there....
+
+They were thus seven against a score. But they were seven good men. And
+the score were a mob....
+
+It was fists, at the first, as Joel had sworn. The first, charging line
+broke upon them; and old Aaron was swept back, fighting like a cat, and
+crushed and bruised and left helpless in an instant. The fat cook dodged
+into his galley, and snatched a knife and held the door there, prodding
+the flanks of those who swirled past his stronghold. Joel dropped the
+first man who came to him; and likewise Mark. But another twined 'round
+Joel's legs, and he could not kick them free, and there was no time to
+stoop and tear the man away.
+
+He and Mark kept back to back for a moment; but Mark was not a defensive
+fighter. He could not stand still and wait attack; and when his second
+man fell, he leaped the twisting body and charged into the clump of them.
+His black hair tossed, his eye was flaming; and his long arms worked like
+pistons and like flails. He became the center of a group that writhed and
+dissolved, and formed again. His head rose above them all.
+
+The man who gripped Joel's legs, freed one hand and began to beat at
+Joel's body from below. Joel could not endure the blows; he bent, and
+took a rain of buffets on his head and shoulders while he caught the
+attacker by the throat, and lifted him up and flung him away. He
+staggered free, set his back against the galley wall; and when he shifted
+to avoid another attack, he found his place in the galley door. The fat
+cook crouched behind him, and Joel heard him shout: "I'll watch your
+legs, Cap'n. Give 'em the iron, sir. Give 'em th' iron."
+
+Once Joel, looking down, saw the cook's knife play like a flame between
+his knees.... None would seek to pin him there.
+
+The black harpooner fought his way across the deck to Joel's side. He
+left a trail of twisting bodies behind him. And he was grinning with a
+huge delight. "Now, sar, we'll do 'em, sar," he screamed. The sweat
+poured down his black cheeks; and his mouth was cut and bleeding. His
+shirt was torn away from one shoulder and arm....
+
+"Good man," said Joel, between his panting blows. "Good man!"
+
+Across the deck, one who had run forward for a handspike swept it down on
+young Dick Morrel's brown head. Morrell dodged, but the blow cracked his
+shoulder and swept him to the deck. The man who had fought beside him
+spraddled the prostrate body, and jerked an iron from the boat on the
+davits at his back and held it like a lance, to keep all men at a
+distance. A sheath knife sped, and twisted in the air, and struck him
+butt first above the eye, so that he fell limply and lay still....
+
+Mark Shore had been forced against the rail near where Jim Finch was
+pinned. Big Finch was howling and weeping with fright; and a little man
+of the crew with a rat's mean soul who hated Finch had found his hour. He
+was leaping about the mate, lashing him mercilessly with a heavy end of
+rope; and Finch screamed and twisted beneath the blows.
+
+So swiftly had the tumult of the battle arisen that all these things had
+come to pass before the harpooners asleep in the steerage could wake and
+reach the deck. When they climbed the ladder, and looked about them, they
+saw Morrell and his ally prostrate at one side, Joel and the cook holding
+the galley door against a half dozen men; and big Mark's towering head
+amidst a knot of half a dozen more. And one of the harpooners backed away
+toward the waist of the ship, watchful and wary, taking no part in the
+affair.
+
+But the other ... He was a Cape Verder, black blood crossed with Spanish;
+and Mark Shore had tied him to a davit, once upon a time, and lashed him
+till he bled, for faults committed. He saw Mark now, and his eyes shone
+greedily.
+
+This man crouched, and crossed to a boat--his own--and chose his own
+harpoon. He twisted off the wooden sheath that covered the point, and
+flung it across the deck; and he poised the heavy iron in his hands, and
+started slowly toward Mark, moving on tiptoe, lightly as a cat.
+
+Mark saw him coming; and the big man shouted joyfully: "Why, Silva! Come,
+you...."
+
+He flung aside the men encircling him. One among them held the handspike
+with which he had struck down Morrell; and Mark smote this man in the
+body, and when he doubled, wrenched the great club from his hands. He
+swung this, leaped to meet the harpooner.
+
+They came together in mid-deck. The great handspike whistled through the
+air, and down. An egg-shell crunched beneath a heel.... Silva dropped.
+
+Mark stood for an instant above him; and in that instant, every man saw
+the harpoon which Silva had driven home. Its heavy shaft hung, dragging
+on the deck; it hung from Mark's breast, high in the right shoulder; and
+the point stood out six inches behind his shoulder blade. It seemed to
+drag at him; he bent slowly beneath its weight, and drooped, and lay at
+last across the body of the man whose skull the handspike had crushed.
+
+There were, at that moment, about a dozen of the men still on their feet;
+but in the instant of their paralyzed dismay, two things struck them; two
+furies ... Dick Morrell, tottering on unsteady feet, brandishing a
+razor-tipped lance full ten feet long. He came upon the men from the
+flank, shouting; and Joel, when he saw his brother fall, left his shelter
+in the galley door and swept upon them. The fat cook, with the knife,
+fought nobly at his side.
+
+The men broke; they fled headlong, forward; and Joel and Morrell and the
+cook pursued them, through the waist, past the trypots, till they tumbled
+down the fo'c's'le scuttle and huddled in their bunks and howled....
+
+A dozen limp bodies sprawled upon the deck, bodies of moaning men with
+heads that would ache and pound for days.... Joel left Morrell to guard
+the fo'c's'le, and went back among them, going swiftly from man to
+man....
+
+Silva was dead. The others would not die--save only Mark. The iron had
+pierced his chest, had ripped a lung....
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+He died that night, smiling to the last. He was able to speak, now and
+then, before the end; and Joel and Priss were near him, at his side,
+soothing him, listening....
+
+He asked Joel, once: "Shall I tell you--where--pearls..."
+
+Joel shook his head. "I do not want them," he said. "They have enough
+blood to turn them crimson. Let them lie."
+
+And Mark smiled, and nodded faintly. "Right, boy. Let them lie...." And
+his eyes shone up at them; and he whispered presently: "That was--a fight
+to tell about, Joel...."
+
+In those hours beside Mark, Priss completed the transition from girl to
+woman. She was very sober, and quiet; but she did not weep, and she
+answered Mark's smiles. And Mark, watching her, seemed to remember
+something, toward the last. Joel saw his eyes beckon; and he bent above
+his brother, and Mark whispered weakly:
+
+"Treasure--Priss, Joel. She's--worth all.... Kissed her, but she fought
+me...."
+
+Joel gripped his brother's hand. "I knew there was no--harm in you--or in
+her," he said. "Don't trouble, Mark...."
+
+When old Aaron had stitched the canvas shroud, they laid Mark on the
+cutting stage; and Joel read over him from the Book, while the men stood
+silent by. Chastened men, heads bandaged, arms in slings ... Big Jim
+Finch at one side, shamed of face. Varde, sullen as ever, but with
+hopelessness writ large upon him. Morrell, and old Hooper....
+
+Joel finished, and he closed the Book. "Unto the deep...." The cutting
+stage tilted, and the wave leaped and caught its burden and bore it
+softly down.... The sun was shining, the sea danced, the wind was warm on
+fair Priscilla's cheek....
+
+And as though, the brief, dramatic chapter being ended, another must at
+once begin, the masthead man presently called down to Joel the long,
+droning hail:
+
+"Ah-h-h-h! Blow-w-w-w-w!"
+
+And he flung his arm toward where a misty spout sparkled in the sun a
+mile or two away. Minutes later, the boats took water; and the _Nathan
+Ross_ was about her business again.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+Joel wrote in the log that night, with Priscilla beside him, her fingers
+in his hair. Priscilla had been very humble, till Joel took her in his
+arms and comforted her....
+
+He set down the ship's position; he recorded their capture, that day, of
+a great bull cachalot; and then:
+
+"... This day Mark Shore was buried at sea. He died late last night, from
+wounds received when he fought valiantly to put down the mutiny of the
+crew. Fourth brother of the House of Shore...."
+
+And below, the ancient and enduring epitaph:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+Priscilla, reading over his shoulder, pointed to this line and whispered
+sorrowfully: "But I--called you coward, Joel." He looked up at her, and
+smiled a little. "I know better now," she said. "So--give me the pen ...
+And close your eyes...."
+
+He heard the scratch of steel on paper; and when he opened his eyes again
+he saw that Priscilla had underscored, with three deep strokes, the first
+word of that honorable line.
+
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of All the Brothers Were Valiant, by Ben Ames Williams</title>
+<style type="text/css">
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, All the Brothers Were Valiant, by Ben Ames
+Williams</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: All the Brothers Were Valiant</p>
+<p>Author: Ben Ames Williams</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 23, 2008  [eBook #25885]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>ALL THE BROTHERS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>WERE VALIANT</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' />
+</div>
+<p style='text-align:center;font-size:smaller;'>
+NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS<br />
+ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO<br />
+<br />
+MACMILLAN &amp; CO., Limited<br />
+<br />
+LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA<br />
+MELBOURNE<br />
+<br />
+THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ltd</span>.<br />
+TORONTO</p>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:1em;'>ALL THE BROTHERS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>WERE VALIANT</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:4em;'>BEN AMES WILLIAMS</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>New York</p>
+<p>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>1919</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:3em;'><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>Copyright, 1919, by</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Ridgway Company</span></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright, 1919</span></p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>Set up and electrotyped. Published, May, 1919</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>ALL THE BROTHERS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>WERE VALIANT</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></div>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>ALL THE BROTHERS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>WERE VALIANT</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<h2>I</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The fine old house stood on Jumping
+Tom Hill, above the town. It had
+stood there before there was a town, when only
+a cabin or two fringed the woods below, nearer
+the shore. The weather boarding had been
+brought in ships from England, ready sawed;
+likewise the bricks of the chimney. Indians
+used to come to the house in the cold of winter,
+begging shelter. Given blankets, and
+food, and drink, they slept upon the kitchen
+floor; and when Joel Shore&#8217;s great-great-grandfather
+came down in the morning, he found Indians
+and blankets gone together. Sometimes
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+the Indians came back with a venison haunch,
+or a bear steak ... sometimes not at all.
+</p>
+<p>The house had, now, the air of disuse which
+old New England houses often have. It was
+in perfect repair; its paint was white, and its
+shutters hung squarely at the windows. But
+the grass was uncut in the yard, and the lack
+of a veranda, and the tight-closed doors and
+windows, made the house seem lifeless and
+lacking the savor of human presence. There
+was a white-painted picket fence around the
+yard; and a rambler rose draped these pickets.
+The buds on the rose were bursting into crimson
+flower.
+</p>
+<p>The house was four-square, plain, and without
+any ornamentation. It was built about a
+great, square chimney that was like a spine.
+There were six flues in this chimney, and a pot
+atop each flue. These little chimney pots
+breaking the severe outlines of the house, gave
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+the only suggestion of lightness or frivolity
+about it. They were like the heads of impish
+children, peeping over a fence....
+</p>
+<p>Across the front of this house, on the second
+floor, ran a single, long room like a corridor.
+Its windows looked down, across the town, to
+the Harbor. A glass hung in brackets on the
+wall; there was a hog-yoke in its case upon a
+little table, and a ship&#8217;s chronometer, and a
+compass.... There were charts in a tin
+tube upon the wall, and one that showed the
+Harbor and the channel to the sea hung between
+the middle windows. In the north corner,
+a harpoon, and two lances, and a boat spade
+leaned. Their blades were covered with
+wooden sheaths, painted gray. A fifteen-foot
+jawbone, cleaned and polished and with every
+curving tooth in place, hung upon the rear wall
+and gleamed like old and yellow ivory. The
+chair at the table was fashioned of whalebone;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+and on a bracket above the table rested the
+model of a whaling ship, not more than eighteen
+inches long, fashioned of sperm ivory and
+perfect in every detail. Even the tiny harpoons
+in the boats that hung along the rail were
+tipped with bits of steel....
+</p>
+<p>The windows of this place were tight closed;
+nevertheless, the room was filled with the harsh,
+strong smell of the sea.
+</p>
+<p>Joel Shore sat in the whalebone chair, at the
+table, reading a book. The book was the Log
+of the House of Shore. Joel&#8217;s father had begun
+it, when Joel and his four brothers were
+ranging from babyhood through youth....
+A full half of the book was filled with entries in
+old Matthew Shore&#8217;s small, cramped hand.
+The last of these entries was very short. It began
+with a date, and it read:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wind began light, from the south. This
+day came into Harbor the bark <i>Winona</i>, after a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+cruise of three years, two months, and four
+days. Captain Chase reported that my eldest
+son, Matthew Shore, was killed by the fluke of
+a right whale, at Christmas Island. The whale
+yielded seventy barrels of oil. Matthew Shore
+was second mate.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And below, upon a single line, like an epitaph,
+the words:
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Two days after, the old man sickened; and
+three weeks later, he died. He had set great
+store by big Matt....
+</p>
+<p>Joel, turning the leaves of the Log, and scanning
+their brief entries, came presently to this&mdash;written
+in the hand of his brother John:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wind easterly. This day the <i>Betty</i> was
+reported lost on the Japan grounds, with all
+hands save the boy and the cook. Noah Shore
+was third mate. Day ended as it began.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And below, again, that single line:
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>There followed many pages filled with reports
+of rich cruises, when ships came home
+with bursting casks, and the brothers of the
+House of Shore played the parts of men. The
+entries were now in the hand of one, now of another;
+John and Mark and Joel.... Joel
+read phrases here and there....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;This day the <i>Martin Wilkes</i> returned ... two
+years, eleven months and twenty-two days ... died
+on the cruise, and first mate John
+Shore became captain. Day ended as it began.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And, a page or two further on:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;... <i>Martin Wilkes</i> ... two years, two
+months, four days ... tubs on deck filled with
+oil, for which there was no more room in the
+casks ... Captain John Shore.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark Shore&#8217;s first entry in the Log stood out
+from the others; for Mark&#8217;s hand was bold, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+strong, and the letters sprawled blackly along
+the lines. Furthermore, Mark used the personal
+pronoun, while the other brothers wrote
+always in the third person. Mark had written:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;This day, I, Mark Shore, at the age of
+twenty-seven, was given command of the whaling
+bark <i>Nathan Ross</i>.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel read this sentence thrice. There was a
+bold pride in it, and a strong and reckless note
+which seemed to bring his brother before his
+very eyes. Mark had always been so, swift of
+tongue, and strong, and sure. Joel turned another
+page, came to where Mark had written:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;This day I returned from my first cruise
+with full casks in two years, seven months,
+fifteen days. I found the <i>Martin Wilkes</i> in the
+dock. They report Captain John Shore lost at
+Vau Vau in an effort to save the ship&#8217;s boy,
+who had fallen overboard. The boy was also
+lost.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></p>
+<p>And, below, in bold and defiant letters:
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>There were two more pages of entries, in
+Mark&#8217;s hand or in Joel&#8217;s, before the end.
+When he came to the fresh page, Joel dipped
+his pen, and huddled his broad shoulders over
+the book, and slowly wrote that which had to
+be written.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wind northeast, light,&#8221; he began, according
+to the ancient form of the sea, which makes
+the state of wind and weather of first and foremost
+import. &#8220;Wind northeast, light. This
+day the <i>Martin Wilkes</i> finished a three year
+cruise. Found in port the <i>Nathan Ross</i>. She
+reports that Captain Mark Shore left the ship
+when she watered at the Gilbert Islands. He
+did not return, and could not be found. They
+searched three weeks. They encountered hostile
+islanders. No trace of Mark Shore.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>When he had written thus far, he read the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+record to himself, his lips moving; then he sat
+for a space with frowning brows, thinking,
+thinking, wondering if there were a chance....
+</p>
+<p>But in the end he cast the hope aside. If
+Mark lived, they would have found him, would
+surely have found him....
+</p>
+<p>And so Joel wrote the ancient line:
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>And below, as an afterthought, he added:
+&#8220;Joel Shore became first mate of the <i>Martin
+Wilkes</i> on her cruise.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He blotted this line, and closed the book,
+and put it away. Then he went to the windows
+that looked down upon the Harbor, and
+stood there for a long time. His face was
+serene, but his eyes were faintly troubled. He
+did not see the things that lay outspread below
+him.
+</p>
+<p>Yet they were worth seeing. The town was
+old, and it had the fragrance of age about it.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p>
+<p>Below Joel, on the hill&#8217;s slopes, among the
+trees, stood the square white houses of the town
+folk. Beyond them, the white spire of the
+church with its weather vane atop. Joel
+marked that the wind was still northeast. The
+vane swung fitfully in the light air. He could
+see the masts and yards of the ships along the
+waterfront. The yards of the <i>Nathan Ross</i>
+were canted in mournful tribute to his brother.
+At the pier end beside her, he marked the ranks
+of casks, brown with sweating oil. Beyond,
+the smooth water ruffled in the wind, and dark
+ripple-shadows moved across its surface with
+each breeze. There were gulls in the air, and
+on the water. Such stillness lay upon the
+sleepy town that if his windows had been open,
+he might have heard the harsh cries of the birds.
+A man was sculling shoreward from a fishing
+schooner that lay at anchor off the docks; and
+a whaleboat crawled like a spider across the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+harbor toward Fairhaven on the other side.
+</p>
+<p>On a flag staff above a big building near the
+water, a half-masted flag hung idly in the
+faintly stirring air. It hung there, he knew,
+for his brother&#8217;s sake. He watched it thoughtfully,
+wondering.... There had been such
+an abounding insolence of life in big Mark
+Shore.... It was hard to believe that he was
+surely dead.
+</p>
+<p>A woman passed along the street below the
+house, and looked up and saw him at the window.
+He did not see her. Two boys crawled
+along the white picket fence, and pricked their
+fingers as they broke half-open clusters from
+the rambler without molestation. A gray
+squirrel, when the boys had gone, came down
+from an elm across the street and sprinted desperately
+to the foot of the great oak below the
+house. When it was safe in the oak&#8217;s upper
+branches, it scolded derisively at the imaginary
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+terrors it had escaped. A blue jay, with ruffled
+feathers&mdash;a huge, blue ball in the air&mdash;rocketed
+across from the elm, and established himself
+near the squirrel, and they swore at each other
+like coachmen. The squirrel swore from
+temper and disposition; the jay from malice
+and derision. The bird seemed to have the better
+of the argument, for the squirrel suddenly
+fell silent and departed, his emotions revealing
+themselves only in the angry flicks of his tail.
+When he was gone, the jay began to investigate
+a knot in a limb of the oak. The bird climbed
+around this knot with slow motions curiously
+like those of a parrot.
+</p>
+<p>A half-grown boy came up the street and
+turned in at the gate. Joel remained where he
+was until the boy manipulated the knocker on
+the door; then he went down and opened. He
+knew the boy; Peter How. Peter was thin and
+freckled and nervous; and he was inclined to
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+stammer. When Joel opened the door, Peter
+was at first unable to speak. He stood on the
+step, jerking his chin upward and forward as
+though his collar irked him. Joel smiled
+slowly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come in, Peter,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>Peter jerked his chin, jerked his whole head
+furiously. &#8220;C&mdash;C&mdash;C&mdash;&#8221; he said. &#8220;Asa W-W-Worthen
+wants to s-s-see you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa Worthen was the owner of the <i>Martin
+Wilkes</i>, and of the <i>Nathan Ross</i>. Joel
+nodded gently.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Peter,&#8221; he told the boy. &#8220;I&#8217;ll
+get my hat and come.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Peter jerked his head. He seemed to be
+choking. &#8220;He&#8217;s a-a-a-a-at his office,&#8221; he
+blurted.
+</p>
+<p>Joel had found his hat. He closed the door
+of the house behind him, and he and Peter went
+down the shady street together.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
+<h2>II</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Asa Worthen was a small, lean, strong
+old man, immensely voluble. He must
+have been well over sixty years old; and he had
+grown rich by harvesting the living treasures of
+the sea. At thirty-four, he owned his first ship.
+She was old, and cranky, and no more seaworthy
+than a log; but she earned him more
+than four hundred thousand dollars, net, before
+he beached her on the sand below the town.
+She lay there still, her upper parts strong and
+well preserved. But her bottom was gone, and
+she was slowly rotting into the sand.
+</p>
+<p>Asa himself had captained this old craft, until
+she had served her appointed time; but when
+she went to the sand flats, he, too, stayed ashore,
+to watch his ships come in. When they were
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+in harbor, they berthed in his own dock; and
+from his office at the shoreward end of the pier,
+he could look down upon their decks, and watch
+the casks come out, so fat with oil, and the
+stores go aboard for each cruise. The cries of
+the men and the wheeling gulls, the rattle of
+the blocks and gear, and the rich smell of the
+oil came up to him.... The <i>Nathan Ross</i>
+was loading now; and when Joel climbed the
+office stairs, he found the old man at the window
+watching them sling great shooks of staves
+into her hold, and fidgeting at the lubberliness
+of the men who did the work.
+</p>
+<p>Asa&#8217;s office was worth seeing; a strange,
+huge room, windowed on three sides; against
+one wall, a whaleboat with all her gear in
+place; in a corner, the twisted jaw of a sixty-barrel
+bull, killed in the Seychelles; and Asa
+Worthen&#8217;s big desk, with a six-foot model of
+his old ship atop it, between the forward windows.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+Beside the desk stood that contrivance
+known to the whalemen as a &#8220;woman&#8217;s tub&#8221;;
+a cask, sawed chair-fashion, with a cross board
+for seat, and ropes so rigged that the whole
+might be easily and safely swung from ship
+to small boat or back again. Asa had taken
+his wife along on more than one of his early
+voyages ... before she died....
+</p>
+<p>At Joel&#8217;s step, the little man swung awkwardly
+away from the window, toward the
+door. Many years ago, a racing whale line had
+snarled his left leg and whipped away a gout of
+muscle; and this leg was now shorter than its
+fellow, so that Asa walked with a pegging limp.
+He hitched across the big room, and took Joel&#8217;s
+arm, and led the young man to the desk.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sit down, Joel. Sit down,&#8221; he said briskly.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve words to say to you, my son. Sit down.&#8221;
+Asa was smoking; and Joel took a twist of leaf
+from his pocket, and cut three slices, and crumbled
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
+them and stuffed them into the bowl of
+his black pipe. Asa watched the process, and
+he watched Joel, puffing without comment.
+There was something furtive in the scrutiny of
+the young man, but Joel did not mark it.
+When the pipe was ready, Asa passed across
+a match, and Joel struck it, and puffed
+slowly....
+</p>
+<p>Asa began, abruptly, what he had to say.
+&#8220;Joel, the <i>Nathan Ross</i> will be ready for sea
+in five days. She&#8217;s stout, her timbers are good
+and her tackle is strong. She&#8217;s a lucky ship.
+The oil swims after her across the broad sea,
+and begs to be taken. She&#8217;s my pet ship, Joel,
+as you know; and she&#8217;s uncommon well fitted.
+Mark had her. Now I want you to take her.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s calm eyes had met the other&#8217;s while
+Asa was speaking; and Asa had shifted to avoid
+the encounter. But Joel&#8217;s heart was pounding
+so, at the words of the older man, that he took
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+no heed. He listened, and he waited thoughtfully
+until he was sure of what he wished to
+say. Then he asked quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is not James Finch the mate of her? Did
+he not fetch her home?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye,&#8221; said Asa impatiently. &#8220;He brought
+her home&mdash;in the top scurry of haste. There
+was no need of such haste; for he had still
+casks unfilled, and there was sparm all about
+him where he lay. He should have filled those
+last casks. &#8217;Tis in them the profit lies.&#8221; He
+shook his head sorrowfully. &#8220;No, Jim Finch
+will not do. He is a good man&mdash;under another
+man. But he has not the spine that
+stands alone. When Mark Shore was gone  ...
+Jim had no thought but to throw the try works
+overside and scurry hitherward as though he
+feared to be out upon the seas alone.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel puffed thrice at his pipe. Then:
+&#8220;You said this morning that for three weeks
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+he hunted Mark, up and down the Gilbert
+Islands.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa&#8217;s little eyes whipped toward Joel, and
+away again. &#8220;Oh, aye,&#8221; he said harshly.
+&#8220;Three weeks he hunted, when one was plenty.
+If Mark Shore lived, and wished to find his
+ship again, he&#8217;d have found her in a week. If
+he were dead ... there was no need of the
+time wasted.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevertheless,&#8221; said Joel quietly, &#8220;James
+Finch has my thanks for his search; and I&#8217;m
+no mind to do him a harm, or to step into his
+shoes.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa smiled grimly. &#8220;Ye&#8217;re over considerate,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;Jim Finch was your brother&#8217;s
+man, and a very loyal one. As long as he is another&#8217;s
+man, he is content. But he has no want
+to be his own master and the master of a ship,
+and of men. I&#8217;ve askit him.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel puffed hard at his pipe; and after a little
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+he asked: &#8220;Sir, what think you it was that
+came to Mark?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa looked at him sharply, then away; and
+his accustomed volubility fell away from him.
+He lifted his hands. &#8220;Ask James Finch.
+I&#8217;ve no way to tell,&#8221; he said curtly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you no opinion?&#8221; Joel insisted.
+</p>
+<p>The ship owner tilted his head, set finger tip
+to finger tip, assumed the air of one who delivers
+judgment. &#8220;Islanders, &#8217;tis like,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;There&#8217;s a many there.&#8221; He looked sidewise
+at Joel, looked away. Joel was nodding.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, many thereabouts,&#8221; he agreed. &#8220;But
+there would have been tracks. Were there
+none?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark left his boat&#8217;s crew,&#8221; said Asa.
+&#8220;Walked away along the shore. That was all.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No tracks?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They saw where he&#8217;d left the sand.&#8221; The
+ship owner shifted in his chair. &#8220;Seems like
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+I&#8217;d heard you and Mark wa&#8216;n&#8217;t too good
+friends, Joel. Your a&#8217;mighty worked up.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel looked at the little man with bleak eyes.
+&#8220;He was my brother.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve heard tell he forgot you was his, sometimes.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel paid no heed. &#8220;You think it was
+Islanders?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa kicked the corner of his desk, watching
+his foot. &#8220;What else was there?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve nothing in my mind,&#8221; said Joel, and
+shook his head. &#8220;But it sticks in me that Mark
+was no man to die easy. There was a full
+measure of life in him.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa got up awkwardly, waved his hand.
+&#8220;We&#8217;re off the course, Joel. What about the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i>? Ready for sea, come Tuesday.
+I&#8217;m not one to press her on any man, unwilling.
+Say your say, man. Do you take her? Or
+no?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p>
+<p>Joel drew slowly once more upon his pipe.
+&#8220;If I take her,&#8221; he said, &#8220;we&#8217;ll work the Gilberts
+first of all, and try once again for a sign
+of my brother Mark.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa jerked his head. &#8220;So you pick up any
+oil that comes your way, I&#8217;ve no objection,&#8221;
+he agreed. &#8220;Matter of fact, that&#8217;s the best
+thing to do. Mark may yet live.&#8221; His eyes
+snapped up to the others. &#8220;You take her,
+then?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded slowly. &#8220;I take her, sir,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;With thanks to you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Asa banged his hand jubilantly on his desk.
+&#8220;That&#8217;s done. Now ...&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The two men sat down at Asa&#8217;s big desk
+again; and for an hour they were busy with
+matters that concerned the coming cruise.
+When a whaleship goes to sea, she goes for a
+three-year cruise; and save only the items of
+food and water, she carries with her everything
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+she will need for that whole time, with an ample
+allowance to spare. She is a department
+store of the seas; for she works with iron and
+wood, with steel and bone, with fire and water
+and rope and sail. All these things she must
+have, and many more. And the lists of a
+whaleship&#8217;s stores are long and long, and take
+much checking. When they had considered
+these matters, Asa sent out to the pierhead to
+summon Jim Finch, and told the man that Joel
+would have the ship. Joel said to Finch
+slowly: &#8220;I&#8217;ve no mind to fight a grudge
+aboard my ship, sir. If you blame me for stepping
+into your shoes, Mr. Worthen will give
+you another berth.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch shook his head. He was a big, laughing
+man with soft, fat cheeks. &#8220;No, sir,&#8221; he
+declared. &#8220;It&#8217;s yours, and welcome. Your
+brother was a man; and you&#8217;ve the look of
+another, sir.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p>
+<p>Joel frowned. He was uncomfortable; he
+had an angry feeling that Finch was too amiable.
+But he said no more, and Finch went
+back to the ship, and Asa and Joel continued
+with their task.
+</p>
+<p>While they worked, the afternoon sun drifted
+down the western sky till its level rays were
+flame lances laid across the harbor. A fishing
+craft at anchor in mid-stream hoisted her
+sails with a creak and rattle of blocks and
+drifted down the channel with the tide. The
+wheeling gulls dropped, one by one, to the
+water; or they lurched off to some quiet cove
+to spend the night. Their harsh cries came
+less frequently, were less persistent. The wind
+had swung around, and it was fetching now
+from the water a cold and salty chill. There
+was a smell of cooking in the air, and the smoke
+from the <i>Nathan Ross</i>&#8217; galley, and the cool
+smell of the sea mingled with the strong odor
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
+of the oil in the casks ranked at the end of the
+pier.
+</p>
+<p>The sun had touched the horizon when Joel
+at last rose to go. Asa got up with him,
+dropped a hand on the young man&#8217;s shoulder.
+They passed the contrivance called a &#8220;woman&#8217;s
+tub&#8221;; and Asa, at sight of it, seemed to be
+minded of something. He stopped, and
+checked Joel, and with eyes twinkling, pointed
+to the tub. &#8220;Will you be wishful to take that
+on the cruise, Joel?&#8221; he asked, and looked up
+sidewise at the younger man, and chuckled.
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s brown cheeks were covered with slow
+fire; but his voice was steady enough when he
+replied. &#8220;It&#8217;s a kind offer, sir,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I
+know well what store you set by that tub.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you be wanting it?&#8221; Asa still insisted.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll see,&#8221; said Joel quietly. &#8220;I will see.&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+<h2>III</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The brothers of the House of Shore had
+been, on the whole, slow to take to
+themselves wives. Matt had never married,
+nor Noah, nor Mark. John had a wife for the
+weeks he was at home before his last cruise;
+but he did not take her with him on that voyage,
+and there was no John Shore to carry on
+the name.
+</p>
+<p>John Shore&#8217;s widow was called Rachel. She
+had been Rachel Holt; and her sister&#8217;s name
+was Priscilla. Rachel was one of those women
+who suggest slumbering fires; she was slow of
+speech, and quiet, and calm.... But John
+Shore and Mark had both loved her; and when
+she married John, Mark laughed a hard and
+reckless laugh that made the woman afraid.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+John and Mark never spoke, one to another,
+after that marriage.
+</p>
+<p>Rachel&#8217;s sister, Priscilla, was a gay and careless
+child. She was six years younger than
+Joel, and she had acquired in babyhood the
+habit of thinking Joel the most wonderful created
+thing. Their yards adjoined; and she was
+the baby of her family, and he of his. Thus
+the big boy and the little girl had always been
+comrades and allies against the world. Before
+Joel first went to sea, as ship&#8217;s boy, the two
+had decided they would some day be married....
+</p>
+<p>Joel went to supper that night at Priscilla&#8217;s
+home. He was alone in his own house; and
+Mrs. Holt was a person with a mother&#8217;s heart.
+Rachel lived at home. She gave Joel quiet
+welcome at the door, before Priscilla in the
+kitchen heard his voice and came flying to overwhelm
+him. She had been making popovers,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+and there was flour on her fingers&mdash;and on
+Joel&#8217;s best black coat, when she was done with
+him. Rachel brushed it off, when Priss had
+run back to her oven.
+</p>
+<p>They sat down at table. Mrs. Holt at one
+end, her husband&mdash;he was a big man, an old
+sea captain, and full of yarns as a knitting
+bag&mdash;at the other; and Rachel at one side,
+facing Priss and Joel. Joel&#8217;s ship had come
+in only that day; the <i>Nathan Ross</i> had been in
+port for weeks. So the whole town knew Mark
+Shore&#8217;s story. They spoke of it now, and
+Joel told them what he knew.... Rachel
+wondered if there was any chance that Mark
+might still be alive. Her father broke in with
+a story of Mark&#8217;s first cruise, when the boy had
+saved a man&#8217;s life by his quickness with the
+hatchet on the racing line. The town was full
+of such stories; for Mark was one of those
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+men about whom legends arise. And now he
+was gone....
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla listened to the talk with the wide
+eyes of youth, awed by the mystery and majesty
+of tragic things. She remembered Mark
+as a huge man, like a pagan god, in whose eyes
+she had been only a thin-legged little girl who
+made faces through the fence.... After supper,
+when the others had left them in the parlor
+together, she said to Joel: &#8220;Do you think
+he&#8217;s dead?&#8221; Her voice was a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I aim to know,&#8221; said Joel.
+</p>
+<p>Rachel looked in at the door. &#8220;You
+needn&#8217;t bother with the dishes, Priss,&#8221; she said.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll do them.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla had forgotten all about that task.
+She ran contritely toward her sister. &#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m
+sorry, Rachel. I will, I will do them. Joel
+and I....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p>
+<p>Rachel laughed softly. &#8220;I don&#8217;t mind them.
+You two stay here.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla accepted the offer, in the end; but
+she had no notion of staying in the tight-windowed
+parlor, with its harsh carpet on the floor,
+and its samplers on the walls. She was of the
+new generation, the generation which discovered
+that the night is beautiful, and not unhealthy.
+&#8220;Let&#8217;s go outside,&#8221; she said to Joel. &#8220;There&#8217;s
+a moon. We can sit on the bench, under the
+apple tree....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They went out, side by side. Joel was not
+a tall man, but he was inches taller than Priscilla.
+She was tiny; a dainty, sweetly proportioned
+creature, built on fine lines that were
+strangely out of keeping with the stalwart stock
+from which she sprung. Her hair was darker
+than Joel&#8217;s; it was a brown so dark that it was
+almost black. But her eyes were vividly blue,
+and her lips were vividly red, and her cheeks
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+were bright.... She slipped her hand through
+Joel&#8217;s big arm as they crossed the yard; and
+when they had found the seat, she drew his arm
+frankly about her shoulders. &#8220;I&#8217;m cold,&#8221; she
+said, laughing up at him. &#8220;You must keep me
+warm....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The moon flecked down through the leaves
+upon her face. There was moonlight on her
+cheek, and on her mouth; but her thick hair and
+her eyes were shadowed and mysterious. Joel
+saw that her lips were smiling.... She drew
+his head down toward hers.... Joel was
+flesh and blood; and she panted, and gasped,
+and pushed him away, and smoothed her hair,
+and laughed at him. &#8220;I love you to be so
+strong,&#8221; she whispered, happily.
+</p>
+<p>He had not told them, at supper, of his promotion.
+He told Priscilla now; and the girl
+could not sit still beside him. She danced in
+the path before the seat; she perched on his
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+knee, and caught his big shoulders in her tiny
+hands and tried to shake him back and forth
+in her delight. &#8220;You don&#8217;t act a bit excited,&#8221;
+she scolded. &#8220;You don&#8217;t act as though you
+were glad, a bit. Aren&#8217;t you glad, Joe?
+Aren&#8217;t you just so proud?...&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he told her. &#8220;Of course. Yes.
+Yes, I am glad, and I am proud.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she cried, &#8220;I could&mdash;I could just hug
+you in two.&#8221; She tried it, tightening her arms
+about his big neck, clinging to him.... He
+sat stiff and awkward under her caresses, thrilling
+with a happiness that he did not know how
+to express. He felt uneasy, half embarrassed.
+Her ecstasy continued....
+</p>
+<p>Then, abruptly, it passed. She became practical.
+Still upon his knee, she began to ask
+questions. When would he sail away? She
+had heard the <i>Nathan Ross</i> was almost ready.
+When would he come back? When would he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+be rich, so that they might be married?
+Would it be long?...
+</p>
+<p>Joel found tongue. &#8220;We will be married
+Monday,&#8221; he said slowly. &#8220;We will go away&mdash;on
+the <i>Nathan Ross</i>&mdash;together. I do not
+want to go alone.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She slipped from his knee, stood before him.
+&#8220;Why, Joel! You&#8217;re&mdash;you&#8217;re just crazy to
+think of it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He shook his head. &#8220;No,&#8221; he said. &#8220;No, I
+have thought all about it. It is the best thing
+to do. We will be married Monday; and we
+will make a bigger cabin on the&mdash;<i>Nathan
+Ross</i>....&#8221; His voice always slowed a little
+as he spoke the name of his first ship. &#8220;You
+will be happy on her,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You will like
+it all.... The sea....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She returned to his knee, tumbling his hair.
+&#8220;You silly! Men don&#8217;t understand. Why, I
+couldn&#8217;t be ready for ever so long. And I
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+wouldn&#8217;t dare go away with you. For so awfully
+long. I just couldn&#8217;t....&#8221; Her eyes
+misted with thought, and she said quite seriously:
+&#8220;Why, Joel, we might find we didn&#8217;t
+like each other at all. But we&#8217;d be on the ship,
+with no way to get away from it ... for three
+years. Don&#8217;t you see?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said calmly: &#8220;That is not so; because
+we know about&mdash;liking each other, already. I
+know how it is with you. It is clothes that
+you are thinking about. Well, you can get
+them in the stores. And you have many, already.
+You have new dresses whenever I see
+you....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She laughed gayly. &#8220;But, Joel, you only see
+me once in three years. Of course I have new
+dresses, then. But I just couldn&#8217;t....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She laughed again, a faint uneasiness in her
+laughter. She left his knee, and sat down soberly
+beside him. She was feeling a little
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+crushed, smothered ... as though she were being
+pushed back against a wall. Joel said
+steadily:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Worthen will be glad to know you go
+with me. And every one will be glad for
+you....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She burst, abruptly, into tears. She was miserable,
+she told him. He was making her miserable.
+She hated to be bullied, and he was
+trying to bully her. She hated him. She
+wouldn&#8217;t marry him. Never. He could go off
+on his old ship and never come back. That was
+all. She would not go; and he ought not to ask
+her to, anyway. To prove how much she hated
+him, she nestled against his side, and his arm
+enfolded her.
+</p>
+<p>Joel had not the outward seeming of a wise
+man; nevertheless he now said:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The other girls will all be envying you. To
+be married so quickly, and carried away the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span>
+very next day....&#8221; Her sobs miraculously
+ceased, and he smiled quietly down upon her
+dark head against his breast. &#8220;Every one will
+do things for you.... The whole town....
+They will come down to see us sail away.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He fell silent, leaving his words for her consideration.
+She remained very quiet against
+his side for a long time, breathing very softly.
+He thought he could almost read her
+thoughts....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will be,&#8221; he said, &#8220;like a story. Like a
+romance.&#8221; And the word sounded strangely on
+his sober lips.
+</p>
+<p>But at the word, the girl sat up quickly, both
+hands gripping his arm. He could see her eyes
+dancing in the moonlight.... &#8220;Oh, Joe,&#8221;
+she cried, &#8220;it would really be just loads of
+fun. And terribly romantic.... Wonderful!&#8221;
+She pressed a hand to her cheek, thinking:
+&#8220;And I could....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p>
+<p>She could, she said, do thus and so....
+</p>
+<p>Joel listened, and he smiled. For he knew
+that his bride would sail away with him.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
+<h2>IV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>In the few days that remained before the <i>Nathan
+Ross</i> was to sail, there was no time for
+remodeling her cabin to accommodate Priscilla;
+so that was left for the first weeks of the cruise.
+There were matters enough, without it, to occupy
+those last days. Little Priss was caught
+up like a leaf in the wind; she was whirled this
+way and that in a pleasant and heart-stirring
+confusion. And through it all, her laughter
+rang in the air like the sound of bells. To
+Joel, Sunday night, she said: &#8220;Oh, Joe ... it&#8217;s
+been an awful rush. But it&#8217;s been such fun.... And
+I never was so happy in my life.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And Joel smiled, and said quietly: &#8220;Yes&mdash;with
+happier times to come.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p>
+<p>She looked up at him wistfully. &#8220;You&#8217;ll be
+good to me, won&#8217;t you, Joel?&#8221; He patted her
+shoulder.
+</p>
+<p>They were married in the big old white
+church, and every pew was filled. Afterwards
+they all went down to the piers, where Asa
+Worthen had spread long tables and loaded
+them so that they groaned. Alongside lay the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i>, her decks littered with the last
+confusion of preparation. Joel showed Priscilla
+the lumber for the cabin alterations, ranked
+along the rail beneath the boathouse; and she
+gripped his arm tight with both hands. Afterwards,
+he took Priscilla up the hill to the great
+House of Shore. Rachel had prepared their
+wedding supper there....
+</p>
+<p>At a quarter before ten o&#8217;clock the next morning,
+the <i>Nathan Ross</i> went out with the tide.
+When she had cleared the dock and was fairly
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+in the stream, Joel gave her in charge of Jim
+Finch; and he and Priscilla stood in the after
+house, astern, and looked back at the throng
+upon the pier until the individual figures
+merged into a black mass, pepper-and-salted
+with color where the women stood. They
+could see the handkerchiefs flickering, until a
+turn of the channel swept them out of sight of
+the town, and they drifted on through the widening
+mouth of the bay, toward the open sea.
+At dusk that night, there was still land in sight
+behind them and on either side; but when Priscilla
+came on deck in the morning, there was
+nothing but blue water and laughing waves.
+And so she was homesick, all that day, and
+laughed not at all till the evening, when the
+moon bathed the ship in silver fire, and the
+white-caps danced all about them.
+</p>
+<p>The <i>Nathan Ross</i> was in no sense a lovely
+ship. There was about her none of the poetry
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
+of the seas. She was designed strictly for utility,
+and for hard and dirty toil. Blunt she was
+of bow and stern, and her widest point was just
+abeam the foremast, so that she had great shoulders
+that buffeted the sea. These shoulders
+bent inward toward the prow and met in what
+was practically a right angle; and her stern was
+cut almost straight across, with only enough
+overhang to give the rudder room. Furthermore,
+her masts had no rake. They stood up
+stiff and straight as sore thumbs; and the bowsprit,
+instead of being something near horizontal,
+rose toward the skies at an angle close to
+forty-five degrees. This bowsprit made the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i> look as though she had just
+stubbed her toe. She carried four boats at the
+davits; and two spare craft, bottom up, on the
+boathouse just forward of the mizzenmast.
+Three of the four at the davits were on the starboard
+side, and since they were each thirty feet
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+long, while the ship herself was scarce a hundred
+and twenty, they gave her a sadly cluttered
+and overloaded appearance. For the rest, she
+was painted black, with a white checkerboarding
+around the rail; and her sails were smeared
+and smutty with smoke from burning blubber
+scraps.
+</p>
+<p>Nevertheless, she was a comfortable ship,
+and a dry one. She rode waves that would
+have swept a vessel cut on prouder lines; and
+she was moderately steady. She was not fast,
+nor cared to be. An easy five or six knots contented
+her; for the whole ocean was her hunting
+ground, and though there were certain more
+favored areas, you might meet whales anywhere.
+Give her time, and she would poke
+that blunt nose of hers right &#8217;round the world,
+and come back with a net profit anywhere up to
+a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in her
+sweating casks.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p>
+<p>Priscilla Holt knew all these things, and she
+respected the <i>Nathan Ross</i> on their account.
+But during the first weeks of the cruise, she was
+too much interested in the work on the cabin to
+consider other matters. Old Aaron Burnham,
+the carpenter, did the work. He was a wiry
+little man, gray and grizzled; and he loved the
+tools of his craft with a jealous love that forbade
+the laying on of impious hands. Through
+the long, calm days, when the ship snored like
+a sleep-walker through the empty seas, Priscilla
+would sit on box or bench or floor, and watch
+Aaron at his task, and ask him questions, and
+listen to the old man&#8217;s long stories of things that
+had come and gone.
+</p>
+<p>Sometimes she tried to help him; but he
+would not let her handle an edged tool. &#8220;Ye&#8217;ll
+no have the eye for it,&#8221; he would say. &#8220;Leave
+it be.&#8221; Now and then he let her try to drive a
+nail; but as often as not she missed the nail head
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+and marred the soft wood, until Aaron lost patience
+with her. &#8220;Mark you,&#8221; he cried, &#8220;men
+will see the scar there, and they&#8217;ll be thinking
+I did this task with my foot, Ma&#8217;am.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And Priscilla would laugh at him, and curl
+up with her feet tucked under her skirts and
+her chin in her hands, and watch him by the
+long hour on hour.
+</p>
+<p>The task dragged on; it seemed to her endless.
+For Aaron had other work that must be
+done, and he could give only his spare time to
+this. Also, he was a slow worker, accustomed
+to take his own time; and when Priscilla grew
+impatient and scolded him, the old man merely
+sat back on his knees, and scratched his head,
+and tapped thoughtfully with his hammer on
+the floor beside him.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We-ell, Ma&#8217;am,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I do things so,
+and I do things so; and it takes time, that does,
+Ma&#8217;am.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p>
+<p>Now and then, through those days, Priscilla&#8217;s
+enthusiasm would send her skittering up the
+companion to fetch Joel to see some new wonder&mdash;a
+window set in the stern, or a bench completed,
+or a door hung. And Joel, looking far
+oftener at Priscilla than at the object she wished
+him to consider, would chuckle, and touch her
+shoulder affectionately, and go back to his post.
+</p>
+<p>In the sixth week, the last nail had been
+driven, and the last lick of paint was dry. In
+the result, Priscilla was as happy as a bride has
+a right to be.
+</p>
+<p>Across the very stern of the ship, with windows
+looking out upon the wake, ran what
+might have been called a sitting room. It was
+perhaps twenty feet wide and eight feet deep;
+and its rear wall&mdash;formed by the overhanging
+stern&mdash;sloped outward toward the ceiling.
+Against this slope, beneath the three windows, a
+broad, cushioned bench was built, to serve as
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
+couch or seat. The bench was broken in one
+place to make room for Joel&#8217;s desk, and the cabinet
+wherein he kept his records and his instruments.
+Priss had put curtains on the windows;
+and she had a lily, in a pot, at one of them, and
+a clump of pansies at another. Joel&#8217;s cabin
+opened off this compartment, on the starboard
+side; hers was opposite. The main cabin, with
+its folding table built about the thick butt of
+the mizzenmast, had been extended forward to
+make room for the enlargement of this stern
+apartment; and the mates were quartered off
+this main cabin. The galley and the store
+rooms were on the main deck, in the after house,
+on either side of the awkward &#8220;walking wheel&#8221;
+by which the ship was steered; and the cabin
+companion was just forward of this wheel.
+</p>
+<p>There were aboard the <i>Nathan Ross</i> about
+thirty men, all told; but the most of them were
+not of Priscilla&#8217;s world. The foremast hands
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+never came aft of the try works, save on tasks
+assigned; and the secondary officers&mdash;boat-steerers
+and the like&mdash;slept in the steerage and kept
+forward of the boathouse. Thus the after deck
+was shared only by Priscilla and Joel, the
+mates, the cook, and old Aaron, who was a man
+of many privileges.
+</p>
+<p>This world, Priscilla ruled. Joel adored
+her; Jim Finch gave her the clumsy homage of
+a puppy&mdash;and was at times just as oppressively
+amiable. Old Aaron talked to her by the hour,
+while he went about his work. And the other
+mates&mdash;Varde, the sullen; and Hooper, who
+was old and losing his grip; and Dick Morrell,
+who was young and finding his&mdash;paid her the
+respect that was her due. Young Morrell&mdash;he
+was not even as old as she was&mdash;helped her
+on her first climb to the mast head. He was
+only a boy.... The girl, when the first homesick
+pangs were past, was happy.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p>
+<p>Until the day they killed their whale, a seventy-barrel
+cachalot cow who died as peaceably
+as a chicken, with only a convulsive flop or two
+when the lances found the life. Priscilla took
+a single glimpse of the shuddering, bloody, oily
+work of cutting in the carcass, and then she fled
+to her cabin and remained there steadfastly until
+the long task was done. The smoke from
+the bubbling try pots, and the persistent smell
+of boiling blubber sickened her; and the grime
+that descended over everything appalled her
+dainty soul. Not until the men had cleaned
+ship did she go on deck again; and even then
+she scolded Joel for the affair as though it were
+a matter for which he was wholly to blame.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;There just isn&#8217;t any sense in making so much
+dirt,&#8221; she told him. &#8220;I&#8217;ve had to wash out
+every one of my curtains; and I can&#8217;t ever get
+rid of that smell.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel chuckled. &#8220;Aye, the smell sticks,&#8221; he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+agreed. &#8220;But you&#8217;ll be used to it soon, Priss.
+You&#8217;ll come to like it, I&#8217;m thinking. Any case,
+we&#8217;ll not be rid of it while the cruise is on.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She was so angry that she wanted to cry.
+&#8220;Do you actually mean, Joel Shore, that I&#8217;ve
+got to live with that sickening, hot-oil smell for
+th-three years?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He nodded slowly. &#8220;Yes, Priss. No way
+out of it. It&#8217;s part of the work. Come another
+month, and you&#8217;ll not mind at all.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She said positively: &#8220;I may not say anything,
+but I shall always hate that smell.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>His eyes twinkled slowly; and she stamped
+her foot. &#8220;If I&#8217;d known it was going to be like
+this, I wouldn&#8217;t have come, Joel. Now don&#8217;t
+you laugh at me. If there was any way to go
+back, I&#8217;d go. I hate it. I hate it all. You
+ought not to have brought me....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They were on the broad bench across the
+stern, in their cabin; and he put his big arm
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>
+about her shoulders and laughed at her till she
+could do no less than laugh back at him. But&mdash;she
+assured herself of this&mdash;she was angry,
+just the same. Nevertheless, she laughed....
+</p>
+<p>Joel had put the <i>Nathan Ross</i> on the most
+direct southward course, touching neither Azores
+nor Cape Verdes. For it was in his mind, as he
+had told Asa Worthen, to make direct for the
+Gilbert Islands and seek some trace of his
+brother there. That had been his plan before
+he left port; but the plan had become determination
+after a word with Aaron Burnham, one
+day. Joel, resting in the cabin while old Aaron
+worked there, fell to thinking of his brother,
+and so asked:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aaron, what is your belief about my brother,
+Mark Shore? Is he dead?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Aaron was building, that day, the forward
+partition of the new cabin, fitting his boards
+meticulously, and driving home each nail with
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
+hammer strokes that seemed smooth and effortless,
+yet sank the nail to the head in an instant.
+He looked up over his shoulder at Joel, between
+nails.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dead, d&#8217;ye say?&#8221; he countered quizzically.
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded. &#8220;The Islanders? Did they
+do it, do you believe?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Old Aaron chuckled asthmatically. He had
+lost a fore tooth, and the effect of his mirth was
+not reassuring. &#8220;There&#8217;s a brew i&#8217; the Islands,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;More like &#8217;twas the island
+brew nor the island men.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel, for a moment, sat very still and considered.
+He knew Mark Shore had never
+scrupled to take strong drink when he chose;
+but Mark had always been a strong man to
+match his drink, and conquer it. Said Joel,
+therefore, after a space of thought:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why do you think that, Aaron? Drink
+was never like to carry Mark away.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></p>
+<p>Aaron squinted up at him. &#8220;Have ye sampled
+that island brew? &#8217;Tis made of pineapples,
+or sago, or the like outlandish stuff, I&#8217;ve
+heard. And one sip is deviltry, and two is
+madness, and three is corruption. Some stomachs
+are used to it; they can handle it. But a
+raw man....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There was significance in the pause, and the
+unfinished sentence. Joel considered the matter.
+There had always been, between him and
+Mark, something of that sleeping enmity that so
+often arises between brothers. Mark was a
+man swift of tongue, flashing, and full of laughter
+and hot blood; a colorful man, like a splash
+of pigment on white canvas. Joel was in all
+things his opposite, quiet, and slow of thought
+and speech, and steady of gait. Mark was accustomed
+to jeer at him, to taunt him; and Joel,
+in the slow fashion of slow men, had resented
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+this. Nevertheless, he cast aside prejudice now
+in his estimate of the situation; and he asked
+old Aaron:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know there were Islanders about?
+Or this wild brew you speak of?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Aaron drove home a nail, and with his punch
+set it flush with the soft wood. &#8220;There was
+some drunken crew, shouting and screeching a
+mile up the beach,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Some few of
+them came off to us with fruit. The sober ones.
+&#8217;Twas them Mark Shore went to pandander
+with.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He went to them?&#8221; Joel echoed. Aaron
+nodded.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye. That he did.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There was a long moment of silence before
+Joel asked huskily: &#8220;But was it like that he
+should stay with them freely?&#8221; For it is a
+black and shameful thing that a captain should
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
+desert his ship. When he had asked the question,
+he waited in something like fear for the
+carpenter&#8217;s answer.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It comes to me,&#8221; said Aaron slowly at last,
+&#8220;that you did not well know your brother.
+Ye&#8217;d only seen him ashore. And&mdash;I&#8217;m doubting
+that you knew all the circumstances of his
+departure from this ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know that he went ashore,&#8221; said Joel.
+&#8220;Went ashore, and left his men, and departed;
+and I know that they searched for him three
+weeks without a sign.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Aaron sat back on his heels, and rubbed the
+smooth head of his hammer thoughtfully
+against his dry old cheek. &#8220;I&#8217;m not one to
+speak harm,&#8221; he said. &#8220;And I&#8217;ve said naught,
+in the town. But&mdash;you have some right to
+know that Mark Shore was not a sober man
+when he left the ship. I&#8217; truth, he had not
+been sober&mdash;cold sober&mdash;for a week. And he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+left with a bottle in his coat.&#8221; He nodded his
+gray old head, eyes not on Joel, but on the hammer
+in his hand. &#8220;Also, there was a pearling
+schooner in the lagoon, with drunk white men
+aboard.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He glanced sidewise at Joel then, and saw
+the Captain&#8217;s cheek bones slowly whiten.
+Whereupon old Aaron bent swiftly to his task,
+half fearful of what he had said. But when
+Joel spoke, it was only to say quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Asa should have told me this.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Aaron shook his head vehemently, but without
+looking up from his task. &#8220;Not so,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;There was no need the town should
+chew Mark&#8217;s name. Better&mdash;&#8221; He glanced
+at Joel. &#8220;Better if he were thought dead.
+Asa&#8217;s a good man, you mind. And&mdash;he knew
+your father.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded at that. &#8220;Asa meant wisest,
+I&#8217;ve no doubt,&#8221; he agreed. &#8220;But&mdash;Mark
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span>
+would do nothing that he was shamed of.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark Shore,&#8221; said Aaron thoughtfully, &#8220;did
+many things without shame for which other men
+would have blushit.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said curtly: &#8220;Aaron, ye&#8217;ll say no more
+such things as that.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ye&#8217;re right,&#8221; Aaron agreed. &#8220;I should no
+have said it. But&mdash;&#8217;tis so.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel left him and went on deck, and his eyes
+were troubled.... Priss was there, with Dick
+Morrell showing her some trick of the wheel,
+and they were laughing together like children.
+Joel felt immensely older than Priss.... Yet
+the difference was scarce six years.... She
+saw him, and left Morrell and came running to
+Joel&#8217;s side. &#8220;Did you sleep?&#8221; she asked.
+&#8220;You needed rest, Joe.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I rested,&#8221; he told her, smiling faintly.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll be fine....&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+<h2>V</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>They drifted past Pernambuco, and
+touched at Trinidad, and so worked
+south and somewhat westward for Cape Horn.
+And in Joel grew, stronger and ever, the resolve
+to hunt out Mark, and find him, and fetch him
+home.... The blood tie was strong on Joel;
+stronger than any memory of Mark&#8217;s derision.
+And&mdash;for the honor of the House of Shore, it
+were well to prove the matter, if Mark were
+dead. It is not well for a Shore to abandon
+his ship in strange seas.
+</p>
+<p>He asked Aaron, two weeks after their first
+talk, whether they had questioned the white men
+on the pearling schooner.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, aye,&#8221; said Aaron cheerfully. &#8220;I sought
+&#8217;em out, myself. Three of them, they was;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+and ill-favored. A slinky small man, and a
+rat-eyed large man, and a fat man in between;
+all unshaven, and filthy, and drunken as owls.
+They&#8217;d seen naught of Mark Shore, they said.
+I&#8217;m thinking he&#8217;d let them see but little of him.
+He had no tenderness for dirt.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel told Priss nothing of what he hoped and
+feared; nor did he question Jim Finch in the
+matter. Finch was a good man at set tasks, but
+he was too amiable, and he had no clamp upon
+his lips.... Joel did not wish the word to go
+abroad among the men. He was glad that
+most of the crew were new since last voyage;
+but the officers were unchanged, save that he
+stood in his brother&#8217;s shoes.
+</p>
+<p>They left Trinidad behind them, and shouldered
+their way southward, the blunt bow of
+the <i>Nathan Ross</i> battering the seas. And they
+came to the Straits, and worked in, and made
+their westing day by day, while little Priss,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+wide-eyed on the deck, watched the gaunt cliffs
+past whose wave-gnawed feet they stole. And
+so at last the Pacific opened out before them,
+and they caught the winds, and worked toward
+Easter Island.
+</p>
+<p>But their progress was slow. To men unschooled
+in the patience of the whaling trade, it
+would have been insufferably slow. For they
+struck fish; and day after day they hung idle on
+the waves while the trypots boiled; and day
+after day they loitered on good whaling
+grounds, when the boats were out thrice and
+four times between sun&#8217;s rise and set. If Joel
+was impatient, he gave no sign. If his desires
+would have made him hasten on, his duty held
+him here, where rich catches waited for the taking;
+and while there were fish to be taken, he
+would not leave them behind.
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla hated it. She hated the grime, and
+the smoke, and the smell of boiling oil; and she
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+hated this dawdling on the open seas, with never
+a glimpse of land. More than once she made
+Joel bear the brunt of her own unrest; and because
+it is not always good for two people to be
+too much together, and because she had nothing
+better to do, she began to pick Joel to pieces in
+her thoughts, and fret at his patience and stolidity.
+She wished he would grow angry, wished
+even that he might be angry with her.... She
+wished for anything to break the long days of
+deadly calm. And she watched Joel more intently
+than it is well for wife to watch husband,
+or for husband to watch wife.
+</p>
+<p>He did so many things that tried her sore.
+He had a fashion, when he had finished eating,
+of setting his hands against the table and pushing
+himself back from the board with slow and
+solid satisfaction. She came to the point where
+she longed to scream when he did this. When
+they were at table in the main cabin, she
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
+watched with such agony of trembling nerves
+for that movement of his that she forgot to eat,
+and could not relish what she ate.
+</p>
+<p>Joel was a man, and his life was moving
+smoothly. His ship&#8217;s casks were filling more
+swiftly than he had any right to hope; his wife
+was at his side; his skies were clear. He was
+happy, and comfortable, and well content.
+Sometimes, when they were preparing for sleep,
+at night, in the cabin at the stern, he would relax
+on the couch there. But she did not wish
+for him to put his feet upon the cushions; she
+said that his shoes were dirty. He offered to
+take off his shoes; and she shuddered....
+</p>
+<p>He had a fashion of stretching and yawning
+comfortably as he bade her good night; and
+sometimes a yawn caught him in the middle of a
+word, and he talked while he yawned. She
+hated this. She was passing through that hard
+middle ground, that purgatory between maidenhood
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>
+and wifehood in the course of which married
+folk find each other only human, after all.
+And she had not yet come to accept this condition,
+and to glory in it. She had always
+thought of Joel as a hero, a protector, a fine,
+stalwart, able, noble man. Now she forgot
+that he was commander of this ship and master
+of the men aboard her, and saw in him only a
+man who, when work was done, liked to take his
+ease&mdash;and who talked through his yawns.
+</p>
+<p>She gnawed at this bone of discontent, in the
+hours when Joel was busy with his work. She
+was furiously resentful of Joel&#8217;s flesh-and-bloodness....
+And Joel, because he was too
+busy to be introspective, continued calmly
+happy and content.
+</p>
+<p>The whales led them past Easter Island for
+a space; and then, abruptly, they were gone.
+Came day on day when the men at the masthead
+saw no misty spout against the wide blue
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+of the sea, no glistening black body lying awash
+among the waves. And the Nathan Ross, with
+all hands scrubbing white the decks again, bent
+northward, working toward that maze of tiny
+islands which dots the wide South Seas.
+</p>
+<p>Their water was getting stale, and running
+somewhat low; and they needed fresh foodstuffs.
+Joel planned to touch at the first land
+that offered. Tubuai, that would be. He
+marked their progress on the chart.
+</p>
+<p>On the evening before they would reach the
+island, when Joel and Priss were preparing for
+sleep, Priss burst out furiously, like a teapot
+that boils over. The storm came without warning,
+and&mdash;so far as Joel could see&mdash;without
+provocation. She was sick, she said, of the
+endless wastes of blue. She wanted to see land.
+To step on it. If she were not allowed to do so
+very soon, she would die.
+</p>
+<p>Joel, at first, was minded to tell her they
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+would sight land in the morning; then, with one
+of the blundering impulses to which husbands
+fall victim at such moments, he decided to wait
+and surprise her. So, instead of telling her, he
+chuckled as though at some secret jest, and tried
+to quiet her by patting her dark head.
+</p>
+<p>She fell silent at his caress; and Joel thought
+she was appeased. As a matter of fact, she was
+hating him for having laughed at her; and her
+calm was ferocious. He discovered this, too
+late....
+</p>
+<p>He had just kissed her good night. She
+turned her cheek to his lips; and he was faintly
+hurt at this. But he only said cheerfully:
+&#8220;There, Priss.... You&#8217;ll be all right in the
+morning....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He yawned in mid-sentence, so that the last
+two or three words sounded as though he were
+trying to swallow a large and hot potato while
+he uttered them. Priss could stand no more of
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>
+that. Positively. So she slapped his face.
+</p>
+<p>He was amazed; and he stood, looking at her
+helplessly, while the slapped cheek grew red and
+red. Priss burst into tears, stamped her foot,
+called him names she did not mean, and as a
+climax, darted into her own cabin, and swung
+the door, and snapped the latch.
+</p>
+<p>Joel did not in the least understand; and he
+went to his bunk at last, profoundly troubled.
+</p>
+<p>An hour after they anchored, the next day, at
+Tubuai, a boat came out from shore and ran
+alongside, and Mark Shore swung across the
+rail, aboard the <i>Nathan Ross</i>.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
+<h2>VI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>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....
+</p>
+<p>When his head rose above the level of the
+cabin skylight, he saw a group of men near the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
+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&#8217;s view, until
+he climbed up on deck. Then he saw that the
+other man was his brother.
+</p>
+<p>He went forward to join them; and it
+chanced that at first no one of them looked in
+his direction. Mark&#8217;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....
+</p>
+<p>Joel, as he came near them, heard Mark
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+laugh throatily at something Finch had said;
+and he heard Finch say unctuously: &#8220;Be sure,
+Captain Shore, every man aboard here is
+damned glad you&#8217;ve come back to us. You
+were missed, missed sore, sir.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed again, at that; and he clapped
+Jim&#8217;s fat shoulder. The action swung him
+around so that he saw Joel for the first time.
+Joel thrust out his hand.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark, man! They said you were dead,&#8221;
+he exclaimed.
+</p>
+<p>Mark Shore&#8217;s eyes narrowed for an instant,
+in a quick, appraising scrutiny of his brother.
+&#8220;Dead?&#8221; he laughed, jeeringly. &#8220;Do I look
+dead?&#8221; He stared at Joel more closely,
+glanced at the other men, and chuckled. &#8220;By
+the Lord, kid,&#8221; he cried, &#8220;I believe old Asa has
+put you in my shoes.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded. &#8220;He gave me command of the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i>. Yes.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p>
+<p>Mark looked sidewise at big Jim Finch, and
+grinned. &#8220;Over your head, eh, Jim? Too
+damned bad!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch grinned. &#8220;I had no wish for the place,
+sir. You see, I felt very sure you would be
+coming back to your own.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark tilted back his head and laughed.
+&#8220;You were always a very cautious man, Jim
+Finch. Never jumped till you were sure where
+you would land.&#8221; He wheeled on Joel.
+&#8220;Well, boy&mdash;how does it feel to wear long
+pants?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel, holding his anger in check, said slowly:
+&#8220;We&#8217;ve done well. Close on eight hundred
+barrel aboard.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark wagged his head in solemn reproof.
+&#8220;Joey, Joey, you&#8217;ve been fiddling away your
+time. I can see that!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Over his brother&#8217;s shoulder, Joel saw the
+grinning face of big Jim Finch, and his eyes
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+hardened. He said quietly: &#8220;If that&#8217;s your
+tone, Mark, you&#8217;ll call back your boat and go
+ashore.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>A flame surged across Mark&#8217;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.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was wrong, grievously wrong, Captain
+Shore,&#8221; he said sonorously. &#8220;I neglected the
+respect due your office. Your high office, sir.
+I thank you for reminding me of the&mdash;the proprieties,
+Captain.&#8221; And he added, in a different
+tone, &#8220;Now will you not invite me aft on
+your ship, sir?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>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.
+&#8220;Will you come down into the cabin, Mark?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
+he invited quietly. &#8220;I&#8217;ve much to ask you;
+and you must have many things to tell.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark nodded. &#8220;I will come,&#8221; he said; and
+his eyes lighted suddenly, and he dropped a
+hand on Joel&#8217;s shoulder. &#8220;Aye, Joel,&#8221; he said
+softly, into his brother&#8217;s ear, as they went aft
+together. &#8220;Aye, I&#8217;ve much to tell. Many
+things and marvelous. Matters you&#8217;d scarce
+credit, Joel.&#8221; Joel looked at him quickly, and
+Mark nodded. &#8220;True they are, Joel,&#8221; he cried
+exultantly. &#8220;Marvelous&mdash;and true as good,
+red gold.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>At the tone, and the eager light in his brother&#8217;s
+eyes, Joel&#8217;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
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>
+halted abruptly, and looked about, and exclaimed:
+&#8220;You&#8217;ve changed things, Joel. I&#8217;d
+not know the ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The door into Priscilla&#8217;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&#8217;s
+voice, and knew it. And she cried, in surprise
+and joy: &#8220;Mark! Oh&mdash;Mark!&#8221; And she
+ran to the door, and stood there, framed for
+Mark&#8217;s eyes against the light behind her, hands
+holding to the door frame on either side.
+</p>
+<p>Mark cried delightedly: &#8220;Priss Holt!&#8221;
+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.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+And Mark was not blind. He kissed her till
+she laughingly fought herself free.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark!&#8221; she cried again. &#8220;You&#8217;re not dead.
+I knew you couldn&#8217;t be....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel, behind them, at sight of Priscilla in his
+brother&#8217;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.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And how did you know I couldn&#8217;t be dead?&#8221;
+he demanded. &#8220;Miss Wise Lady.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She moved her head confusedly. &#8220;Oh&mdash;you
+were always so&mdash;so alive, or something....
+You just couldn&#8217;t be....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He chuckled, released her, and stood away
+and surveyed her. &#8220;Priss, Priss,&#8221; he said contritely,
+&#8220;you&#8217;re not a little kid any longer.
+Dresses down, and hair up....&#8221; He wagged
+his head. &#8220;It&#8217;s a wonder you did not slap my
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+face.&#8221; And then he looked from her to Joel,
+and abruptly he tossed his great head back and
+laughed aloud. &#8220;By the Lord,&#8221; he roared.
+&#8220;The children are married. Married....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla flushed furiously, and stamped her
+foot at him. &#8220;Of course we&#8217;re married,&#8221; she
+cried. &#8220;Did you think I&#8217;d come clear around
+the world with....&#8221; Her words were smothered
+in her own hot blushes, and Mark laughed
+again, until she cried: &#8220;Stop it. I won&#8217;t have
+you laughing at us. Joel&mdash;make him stop!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>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. &#8220;Now,&#8221; he exclaimed.
+&#8220;Tell me all about it. When, and why, and
+how?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss dropped on the bench beside him, feet
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+tucked under her in the miraculous fashion of
+small women; and she enumerated her answers
+on the pink tips of her fingers. &#8220;When?&#8221; she
+repeated. &#8220;The day before we sailed. Why?
+Just because. How? In the same old way.&#8221;
+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. &#8220;So,&#8221; she said, &#8220;that&#8217;s all there is to
+tell you about us. Tell us about you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark&#8217;s eyes twinkled. &#8220;Ah, now, what&#8217;s the
+use? That will come later. Besides&mdash;some
+chapters are not for gentle ears.&#8221; He nodded
+toward Joel. &#8220;So you love the boy, yonder?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss bobbed her head, red lips pursed, eyes
+dancing.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221; Mark demanded. &#8220;What do you
+discover in him?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She looked at Joel, and they laughed together
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+as though at some delightful secret, mutually
+shared. Mark wagged his head dolorously.
+&#8220;And I suppose he&#8217;s wild about you?&#8221; he asked.
+</p>
+<p>She nodded more vigorously than ever.
+</p>
+<p>Mark rubbed his hands together. He looked
+at Joel, with a faintly malicious twinkle in his
+eyes. &#8220;Well, now!&#8221; he exclaimed. &#8220;That is
+certainly the best of news....&#8221; Joel saw the
+mocking and malignant little devil in his eye.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve never had a kid sister,&#8221; said Mark gayly.
+&#8220;And it&#8217;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.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And Priscilla, on the seat beside him, nodded
+her lovely head once more. &#8220;I should say so,&#8221;
+she exclaimed.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+<h2>VII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mark Shore held something like a reception,
+on the <i>Nathan Ross</i>, all that
+first day. He went forward among the men
+to greet old friends and meet new ones, and
+came back and complimented Joel on the quality
+of his crew. &#8220;You&#8217;ve made good men of
+them,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Those that weren&#8217;t good men
+before.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He listened, with a smile half contemptuous,
+to Jim Finch&#8217;s somewhat slavish phrases of welcome
+and admiration; and he talked with
+Varde, the morose second mate, so gayly that
+even Varde was cozened at last into a grin.
+Old Hooper was pathetically glad to see him.
+Hooper had been mate of the ship on which
+Mark started out as a boy; and he liked to hark
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+back to those days. Young Dick Morrell, on
+his trips from the shore, gave Mark frank worship.
+</p>
+<p>Joel saw all this. He could not help seeing
+it. And he told himself, again and again, that
+it was only to be expected. Mark had captained
+this ship, had captained these men, on
+their last cruise; they had thought him dead.
+It was only natural that they should welcome
+him back to life again....
+</p>
+<p>But even while he gave himself this reassurance,
+he knew that it was untrue. There
+was more than mere welcome in the attitude of
+the men; there was more than admiration.
+There was a quality of awe that was akin to
+worship; and there was, beneath this awe, a
+lively curiosity as to what Mark would do....
+They knew him for a quick man, dominant, one
+with the will to lead; and now he found himself
+supplanted, dependent on the word of his
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+own younger brother.... Every one knew
+that Mark and Joel had always been rather enemies
+than comrades; so, now, they wondered,
+and waited, and watched with all their eyes.
+Joel saw them, by twos and threes, whispering
+together about the ship; and he knew what it
+was they were asking each other.
+</p>
+<p>Of all those on the <i>Nathan Ross</i> that day,
+Mark himself seemed least conscious of the dramatic
+possibilities of the situation. He was
+glad to be back among friends; but beyond that
+he did not go. He gave Joel an exaggerated
+measure of respect, so extreme that it was worse
+than scorn or mockery. Otherwise, he took no
+notice of the potentialities created by his return.
+</p>
+<p>Priss had planned to go ashore in the afternoon;
+but Mark dissuaded her. This was not
+difficult; he did it so laughingly and so dextrously
+that Priss changed her mind without
+knowing just why she did so. Mark took it
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+upon himself to make up for her disappointment;
+they were together most of the long, hot
+afternoon. Joel could hear their laughter now
+and then.
+</p>
+<p>He had expected to go ashore with Priss; but
+when she came to him and said: &#8220;Joel, Mark
+says it&#8217;s just dirty and hot and ugly, ashore, and
+I&#8217;m not going,&#8221; he changed his mind. There
+was no need of his making the trip, after all.
+Varde and Morrell had brought out water, towing
+long strings of almost-filled casks behind
+their boats; and boats from the shore had come
+off to sell fresh food. So at dusk, the anchor
+came up, and the <i>Nathan Ross</i> spread her dingy
+sails, and stalked out of the harbor with the utmost
+dignity in every stiff line of her, and the
+night behind them swallowed up the island.
+Mark and Priss were astern to watch it blend in
+the darkness and lose itself; and Priss, when
+their last glimpse of it faded, heard the man
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+draw a deep breath of something like relief.
+She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it?&#8221; she asked softly. &#8220;Were you&mdash;unhappy
+there?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed aloud. &#8220;My dear Priss,&#8221; he
+said, in the elder-brother manner he affected toward
+her. &#8220;My dear Priss, the South Sea Islands
+are no place for a white man, especially
+when he is alone. I&#8217;m glad to get back in the
+smell of oil, with an honest deck underfoot.
+And I don&#8217;t mind saying so.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss shuddered, and wrinkled her nose.
+&#8220;Ugh, how I hate that smell,&#8221; she exclaimed.
+&#8220;But, Mark&mdash;tell me where you&#8217;ve been, and
+what you did, and&mdash;everything. Why won&#8217;t
+you tell?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He wagged his head at her severely. &#8220;Children,&#8221;
+he said, &#8220;should be seen and not heard.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She stamped her foot. &#8220;I&#8217;m not a child.
+I&#8217;m a woman.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></p>
+<p>He bent toward her suddenly, his dark eyes
+so close to hers that she could see the flickering
+flame which played in them, and the twist of his
+smile. &#8220;I wonder!&#8221; he whispered. &#8220;Oh&mdash;I
+wonder if you are....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She was frightened, deliciously....
+</p>
+<p>Mark had persisted, all day long, in his refusal
+to tell her of himself. He had dropped a
+sentence now and then that brought to life in
+her imagination a strange, wild picture....
+But always he set a bar upon his lips, caught
+back the words, refused to explain what it was
+he had meant to say. When she persisted, he
+laughed at her and told her he only did it to be
+mysterious. &#8220;Mystery is always interesting,
+you understand,&#8221; he explained. &#8220;And&mdash;I wish
+to be very interesting to you, Priss.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She looked around the after deck for Joel;
+but he was below in the cabin, and she decided,
+abruptly, that she must go down....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></p>
+<p>They had bought chickens at Tubuai, and
+they had two of them, boiled, for supper that
+night in the cabin. It was a feast, after the
+long months of sober diet; and the presence of
+Mark made it something more. He was a good
+talker, and without revealing anything of the
+months of his disappearance, he nevertheless
+told them stories that held each one breathless
+with interest. But after supper, he went on
+deck with Finch, and Joel and Priss sat in the
+cabin astern for a while; and Joel wrote up, in
+the ship&#8217;s log, the story of his brother&#8217;s return.
+Priss read it over his shoulder, and afterwards
+she clung close to Joel. &#8220;He&#8217;s a terribly&mdash;overwhelming
+man, isn&#8217;t he?&#8221; she whispered.
+</p>
+<p>Joel looked down at her, and smiled thoughtfully.
+&#8220;Aye, Mark&#8217;s a big man,&#8221; he agreed.
+&#8220;Big&mdash;in many ways. But&mdash;you&#8217;ll be used to
+him presently, Priss.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>When she prepared to go to bed, he bade her
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+good night and left her, and went on deck; and
+Priss, in her narrow bunk in the cabin at the side
+of the ship, lay wide-eyed with many thoughts
+stirring in her small head. She was still awake
+when she heard them come down into the main
+cabin together, Joel and Mark. The walls
+were thin; she could hear their words, and she
+heard Mark ask: &#8220;Sure Priss is asleep?
+There are parts&mdash;not for the pretty ears of a
+bride, Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss was not asleep, but when Joel came to
+see, she closed her eyes, and lay as still as still,
+scarce breathing. Joel bent over her softly;
+and he touched her head, clumsily, with his
+hand, and patted it, and went away again, closing
+her door behind him. She heard him tell
+Mark: &#8220;Aye, she&#8217;s fast asleep.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The brothers sat by Joel&#8217;s desk, in the cabin
+across the stern; and Mark, without preamble,
+told his story there. Priss, ten feet away, heard
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+every word; and she lay huddled beneath the
+blankets, eyes staring upward into the darkness
+of her cabin; and as she listened, she shuddered
+and trembled and shrank at the terror and wonder
+and ugliness of the tale he told. No Desdemona
+ever listened with such half-caught
+breath....
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+<h2>VIII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re blaming me,&#8221; said Mark, when
+he and Joel were puffing at their pipes,
+&#8220;for leaving my ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said slowly: &#8220;No. But I do not understand
+it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed, a soft and throaty laugh.
+&#8220;You would not, Joel. You would not. For
+you never felt an overwhelming notion that you
+must dance in the moon upon the sand.
+You&#8217;ve never felt that, Joel; and&mdash;I have.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not a hand for dancing,&#8221; said Joel.
+</p>
+<p>Mark seemed to forget that his brother sat
+beside him. His eyes became misty and
+thoughtful, as though he were living over again
+the days of which he spoke. &#8220;Mind, Joel,&#8221; he
+said, &#8220;there&#8217;s a pagan in every man of us. And
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+there&#8217;s two pagans in some of us. And I&#8217;m
+minded, Joel, that there are three of them in
+me. &#8217;Twas so, that night.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was night when you left the ship?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye, night. Night, and the moon; and it
+may have been that I had been drinking a drop
+or two. Also, as you shall see, I was not well.
+I tell these things, not by way of excuse and
+palliation; but only so that you may understand.
+D&#8217;ye see? I was three pagans in one
+body, and that body witched by moon, and
+twisted by drink, and trembling with fever.
+And so it was I went ashore, and flung my men
+behind me, and went off, dancing, along the
+hard sand.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was a night, Joel. A slow-winded,
+warm, trembling night when there was a song in
+the very air. The wind tingled on your throat
+like a woman&#8217;s finger tips; and the sea was singing
+at the one side, and the wind in the palms on
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+the other. And ahead of me, the wild, discordant
+chanting of the Islanders about their fires....
+That singing it was that got me by the
+throat, and led me. I twirled around and
+around, very solemnly, by myself in the moonlight
+on the sand; and all the time I went onward
+toward the fires....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I remember, when I came in sight of the
+fires, I threw away my coat and ran in among
+them. And they scattered, and yelled their
+harsh, meaningless, throaty yells. And they
+hid in the bush to stare at me by the fire....
+They hid in the rank, thick grasses. All except
+one, Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel, listening, watched his brother and saw
+through his brother&#8217;s eyes; for he knew, for all
+his slow blood, the witchery of those warm,
+southern nights.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The moon was on her,&#8221; said Mark. &#8220;The
+moon was on her, and there was a red blossom
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+in her hair, and some strings of things that
+clothed her. A little brown girl, with eyes like
+the eyes of a deer. And&mdash;not afraid of me.
+That was the thing that got me, Joel. She
+stood in my path, met me, watched me; and
+her eyes were not afraid....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;She was very little. She was only a child.
+I suppose we would call her sixteen or seventeen
+years old. But they ripen quickly, Joel&mdash;these
+Island children. Her little shoulders were as
+smooth and soft.... You could not even mark
+the ridge of her collar bones, she was fleshed so
+sweetly. She stood, and watched me; and the
+others crept out of the grasses, at last, and stood
+about us. And then this little brown girl held
+up her hand to me, and pointed me out to the
+others, and said something. I did not know
+what it was that she said; but I know now.
+She said that I was sick.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did not know then that I was sick. When
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+she lifted her hand to me, I caught it; and I began
+to lead her in a wild dance, in the moonlight,
+about their dying fires. I could see them,
+in the shadows, their eyeballs shining as they
+watched us.... And they seemed, after a little,
+to move about in a misty, inhuman fashion;
+and they twisted into strange, cloud-like shapes.
+And I stopped to laugh at them, and my head
+dropped down before I could catch it and struck
+against the earth, and the earth forsook me,
+Joel, and left me swimming in nothing at
+all....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;My memory was a long time in coming back
+to me, Joel. It would peep out at me like a
+timid child, hiding among the trees. I would
+see it for an instant; then &#8217;twould be gone.
+But I know it must have been many days that I
+was on the island there. And I knew, after
+a time, that I was most extremely sick; and the
+little brown girl put cool leaves on my head,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+and gave me strange brews to drink, and rubbed
+and patted my chest and my body with her
+hands in a fashion that was immensely comfortable
+and strengthening. And I twisted on a
+bed of coarse grass.... And I remember singing,
+at times....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He looked toward Joel, eyes suddenly flaming.
+&#8220;Eh, Joel, I tell you I was not three
+pagans, but six, in those days. The thing&#8217;s
+clear beyond your guessing, Joel. But it was
+big. An immense thing. I was back at the beginning
+of the world, with food, and drink, and
+my woman.... It was big, I tell you. Big!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>His eyes clouded&mdash;he fell silent, and so at
+last went on again. &#8220;I was asleep one night,
+tossing in my sleep. And something woke me.
+And I laid my hand on the spot beside me where
+the little brown girl used to lie, and she was
+gone. So I got up, unsteadily. There were
+rifles snapping in the night; and there were
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+screams. And I heard a white man&#8217;s black
+curse; and the slap of a blow of flesh on flesh.
+And the screams.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I went that way; and the sounds retreated
+before me, until I came out, unsteadily,
+upon the open beach. There was no moon, that
+night; and the water of the lagoon was shot
+with fire. And there was a boat, pulling away
+from the beach, with screaming in it.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I swam after the boat for a long time, for I
+thought I had heard the voice of the little brown
+girl. The water was full of fire. When I
+lifted my arms, the fire ran down them in
+streams and drops. And sometimes I forgot
+what I was about, and stopped to laugh at these
+drops of fire. But in the end, I always swam
+on. I remember once I thought the little brown
+girl swam beside me, and I tried to throw my
+arm about her, and she wrenched away, and she
+burned me like a brand. I found, afterwards,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+what that was. My breast and sides were
+rasped and raw where a shark&#8217;s rough skin had
+scraped them. I&#8217;ve wondered, Joel, why the
+beast did not take me....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But he did not; for I bumped at last into
+the boat, and climbed into it, and it was empty.
+But I saw a rope at the end of it, and I pulled
+the rope, and came to the schooner&#8217;s stern, and
+climbed aboard her.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>His voice was ringing, exultantly and
+proudly. &#8220;I swung aboard,&#8221; he said. &#8220;And
+I stumbled over fighting bodies on the deck,
+astern there. And some one cried out, in the
+waist of her; and I knew it was the little brown
+girl. So I left those struggling bodies at the
+stern, for they were not my concern; and I went
+forward to the waist. And I found her there.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;A fat man had her. She was fighting him;
+and he did not see me. And I put my fingers
+quietly into his neck, from behind; and when he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+no longer kicked back at me, and no longer tore
+at my fingers with his, I dropped him over the
+side. I saw a fiery streak in the water where I
+dropped him. That shark was not so squeamish
+as the one I had&mdash;embraced. It may have
+been the other was embarrassed at my ways,
+Joel. D&#8217;ye think that might have been the
+way of it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s knuckles were white, where his hand
+rested on his knee. Mark saw, and laughed
+softly. &#8220;There&#8217;s blood in you, after all, boy,&#8221;
+he applauded. &#8220;I&#8217;ve hopes for you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said slowly: &#8220;What then? What
+then, Mark?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;Well, that was a very
+funny thing,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You see, the other two
+men, they were busy, astern, with their own concerns.
+And when I had comforted the little
+brown girl, and sat down on the deck to laugh
+at the folly of it all, she slipped away from me,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+and went aft, and got all their rifles. She
+brought them to me. She seemed to expect
+things of me. So I, still laughing, for the fever
+was on me; I took the rifles and threw them,
+all but one, over the side. And I went down
+into the cabin, with the little brown girl, and
+went to bed; and she sat beside me, with the
+rifle, and a lamp hanging above the door....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And that was all that happened, until I
+woke one morning and saw her there, and wondered
+where I was. And my head was clear
+again. She made me understand that the men
+had sought to come at me, but had feared the
+rifle in her hands....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And we were in the open sea, as I could feel
+by the labor of the schooner underfoot. So I
+took the rifle in the crook of my arm, and with
+the little brown girl at my heel, I went up on
+deck. And we made a treaty.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He fell silent for a moment, and Joel
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+watched him, and waited. And at last, Mark
+went on.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I had been more than a month on the island,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;The <i>Nathan Ross</i> had gone.
+This schooner was a pearler, and they had the
+location of a bed of shell. They had been
+waiting till another schooner should leave the
+place, to leave their own way clear. And when
+that time came, they went ashore to get the
+brown women for companions on that cruise.
+And they made the mistake of picking up my
+little brown girl, when she ran out of the hut.
+And so brought me down upon them.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;There were two of them left; two whites,
+and three black men forward, who were of no
+account. And the other two women. These
+other two were chattering together, on the deck
+astern, when I appeared. They seemed content
+enough....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The men were not happy. There was a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+large man with slanting eyes. There was Oriental
+blood in him. You could see that. He
+called himself Quint. But his eyes were Jap,
+or Chinese; and he had their calm, blank screen
+across his countenance, to hide what may have
+been his thoughts. Quint, he called himself.
+And he was a big man, and very much of a man
+in his own way, Joel.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The other was little, and he walked with a
+slink and a grin. His name was Fetcher. And
+he was oily in his speech.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;When they saw me, they studied me for a
+considerable time without speech. And I stood
+there, with the rifle in my arm, and laughed at
+them. And at last, Quint said calmly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;You took Farrell.&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;The fat man?&#8217; I asked him. He nodded.
+&#8216;Yes,&#8217; I said. &#8216;He took my girl, and so I
+dropped him into the water, and a friend met
+him there and hurried him away.&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Your girl?&#8217; he echoed, in a nasty way.
+&#8216;You&#8217;re that, then?&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Am I?&#8217; I asked, and shifted the rifle a
+thought to the fore. And his eyes held mine
+for a space, and then he shook his head.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;I see that I was mistaken,&#8217; he said.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Your sight is good,&#8217; I told him. &#8216;Now&mdash;what
+is this? Tell me.&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He told me, evenly and without malice.
+They had a line on the pearls; there were
+enough for three. I was welcome. And at the
+end, I nodded my consent. The <i>Nathan Ross</i>
+was gone. Furthermore, there were nine pagans
+in me now; and the prospect of looting
+some still lagoon, in company with these two
+rats, had a wild flavor about it that caught me.
+My blood was burning; and the sun was hot.
+Also, they had liquor aboard her. Liquor, and
+loot, and the three women. Pagan, Joel. Pagan!
+But wild and red and raw. There&#8217;s a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+glory about such things.... Songs are made
+of them.... There was no handshaking; but
+we made alliance, and crowded on sail, and
+went on our way.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He stopped short, laughed, filled his pipe
+again, watched Joel. &#8220;You&#8217;re shocked with
+me, boy. I can see it,&#8221; he taunted mockingly.
+Joel shook his head. &#8220;Will you hear the rest?&#8221;
+Mark asked; and Joel nodded. Mark lighted
+his pipe, laughed.... His fingers thrummed
+on the desk beside him.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We were a week on the way,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;And all pagan, every minute of the week.
+Days when we fought a storm&mdash;as bad as I&#8217;ve
+ever seen, Joel. We fought it, holding to the
+ropes with our teeth, bare to the waist, with the
+wind scourging us. It tore at us, and lashed at
+us.... And we drove the three black men
+with knives to their work. And the three
+women stayed below, except my little brown
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+girl. She came up, now and then, with dry
+clothes for me.... And I had to drive her to
+shelter....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And when there was not the storm, there
+was liquor; and they had cards. We staked
+our shares in the catch that was to come....
+Hour on hour, dealing, and playing with few
+words; and our eyes burned hollow in their sockets,
+and Quint&#8217;s thin mouth twisted and writhed
+all the time like a worm on a pin. He was a
+nervous man, for all his calm. A very nervous
+man....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The fifth day, one of the blacks stumbled
+in Quint&#8217;s path, on deck. Quint had been losing,
+at the cards. He slid a knife from his
+sleeve into the man&#8217;s ribs, and tipped the black
+over the rail without a word. I was twenty
+feet away, and it was done before I could catch
+breath. I shouted; and Quint turned and
+looked at me, and he smiled.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;What is it?&#8217; he asked. &#8216;Have you objections
+to present?&#8217; And the smeared blade in
+his hand, and the bubbles still rising, overside.
+I was afraid of the man, Joel. I tell you I was
+afraid. The only time. Fear&#8217;s a pagan joy,
+boy. It was like a new drink to me. I nursed
+it, eating it. And I shook my head, humble.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;No objections,&#8217; I said, to Quint. &#8216;&#8217;Tis
+your affair.&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;That was my thought,&#8217; he agreed, and
+passed me, and went astern. I stood aside to
+let him pass, and trembled, and laughed for the
+joy of my fear.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And then we came to the lagoon, and the
+blacks began to dive. Only the two we had;
+and there was no sign of Islanders, ashore.
+But the water was shallow, and we worked the
+men with knives, and they got pearls. Sometimes
+one or two in a day; sometimes a dozen.
+Do you know pearls, Joel? They&#8217;re sweet as a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+woman&#8217;s skin. I had never seen them, before.
+And we all went a little mad over them....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They made Fetcher hysterical. He laughed
+too much. They made Quint morose. They
+made me tremble....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He wiped his hand across his eyes, as though
+the memory wearied him; and he moved his
+great shoulders, and looked at Joel, and
+laughed. &#8220;But it could not last, in that fashion,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;It might have been anything.
+It turned out to be the women. I said they
+seemed content. They did. But that may be
+the way of the blacks. They have a happy
+habit of life; they laugh easily....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;At any rate, we found one morning that
+Quint&#8217;s girl was gone. She was not on the
+schooner; and ashore, we found her tracks in
+the sand. She had gone into the trees. And
+we beat the island, and we did not find her.
+And Quint sweated. All that day.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;That night, he looked at my little brown
+girl, and touched her shoulder. I was across
+the deck, the girl coming to me with food. I
+said to him: &#8216;No. She&#8217;s mine, Quint.&#8217; And
+he looked at me, and I beat him with my eyes.
+And as his turned from mine, Fetcher and his
+woman came on deck, and Quint tapped
+Fetcher, and said to him: &#8216;What will you take
+for her?&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher laughed at him; and Quint scowled.
+And I&mdash;for I was minded to see sport, came
+across to them and said: &#8216;Play for her.
+Play for her!&#8217;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher was willing; because he had the
+blood that gambles anything. Quint was willing,
+because he was the better player. They
+sat down to the game, in the cabin, after supper.
+Poker. Cold hands. Nine of them.
+Winner of five to win....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher got two, lost four, got two more. I
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+was dealing. Card by card, face upward. I
+remember those hands. And my little brown
+girl, and the other, watching from the corner.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The hands on the table grew, card by card.
+Fetcher got an ace, Quint a deuce. Fetcher a
+queen, Quint a seven. Fetcher a jack, Quint a
+six. Fetcher a ten, Quint a ten. Only the
+last card to come to each. If Fetcher paired
+any card, he would win. His card came first.
+It was a seven. He was ace, queen high.
+Quint had deuce, six, seven, ten. He had to
+get a pair to win....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I saw Quint&#8217;s hand stir, beneath the table;
+and I glimpsed a knife in it. But before I
+could speak, or stir, Fetcher dropped his own
+hand to his trouser leg, and I knew he kept a
+blade there.... So I laughed, and dealt
+Quint&#8217;s last card....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;A deuce. He had a pair, enough to
+win....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;He leaned back, laughing grimly; and
+Fetcher&#8217;s knife went in beneath the left side of
+his jaw, where the jugular lies. Quint looked
+surprised, and got up out of his chair and lay
+down quietly across the table. I heard the
+bubbling of his last breath.... Then Fetcher
+laughed, and called his woman, and they took
+Quint on deck and tipped him overside. The
+knife had been well thrown. Fetcher had
+barely moved his wrist.... I was much impressed
+with the little man, and told my brown
+girl so. But she was frightened, and I comforted
+her.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He was silent again for a time, pressing the
+hot ashes in his pipe with his thumb. The
+water slapped the broad stern of the ship beneath
+them, and Joel&#8217;s pipe was gurgling.
+There was no other sound. Little Priss, nails
+biting her palms, thought she would stream if
+the silence held an instant more....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p>
+<p>But Mark laughed softly, and went on.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher and I worked smoothly together,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;The little man was very pleasant
+and affable; and I met him half way. The
+blacks brought up the shells, and we idled
+through the days, and played cards at night.
+We divided the take, each day; so our stakes
+ran fairly high. But luck has a way of balancing.
+On the day when we saw the end in sight,
+we were fairly even....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher, and the blacks and I went ashore to
+get fruit from the trees there. Plenty of it
+everywhere; and we were running short. We
+went into the brush together, very pleasantly;
+and he fell a little behind. I looked back, and
+his knife brushed my neck and quivered in a
+tree a yard beyond me. So I went back and
+took him in my hands. He had another knife&mdash;the
+little man fairly bristled with them. But
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+it struck a rib, and before he could use it again,
+his neck snapped.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;So that I was alone on the schooner, with
+the two blacks, and Fetcher&#8217;s woman, and the
+little brown girl.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetcher&#8217;s woman went ashore to find him
+and never came back. And I decided it was
+time for me to go away from that place. The
+pagans were dying in me. I did not like that
+quiet little island any more.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the next morning, when I looked out
+beyond the lagoon, another schooner was coming
+in. So I was uncomfortable with Fetcher&#8217;s
+pearls, as well as mine, in my pocket. There
+are some hard men in these seas, Joel; and I
+knew none of them would treasure me above my
+pearls. So I planned a story of misfortune, and
+I went ashore to hide my pearls under a rock.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The blacks had brought me ashore. I went
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+out of their sight to do what I had to do; and
+when I came back, after hiding the pearls, I saw
+them rowing very swiftly toward the schooner.
+And they looked back at me in a fearful way.
+I wondered why; and then four black men came
+down on me from behind, with knives and clubs.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I had a very hard day, that day. They
+hunted me back and forth through the island&mdash;I
+had not even a knife with me&mdash;and I met them
+here and there, and suffered certain contusions
+and bruises and minor cuts. Also, I grew very
+tired of killing them. They were wiry, but
+they were small, and died easily. So I was
+glad, when from a point where they had cornered
+me I saw the little brown girl rowing the
+big boat toward me.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;She was alone. The blacks were afraid to
+come, I thought. But I found afterward that
+this was not true. They could not come; for
+they had tried to seize the schooner and go
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+quickly away from that place, and the little
+brown girl had drilled them both. She had a
+knack with the rifle....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I waded to meet the boat, and she tossed
+me the gun. I held them off for a little, while
+we drew away from the shore. But when we
+were thirty or forty yards off, I heard rifles from
+the other schooner, firing past us at the blacks
+in the bush; and the girl stopped rowing. So
+I turned around and saw that one of the balls
+from the other schooner had struck her in the
+back. So I sat there, in the sun, drifting with
+the wind, and held her in my arms till she
+coughed and died.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I went out to the other schooner and
+told them they were bad marksmen. They had
+only been passing by, for copra; and the story
+I told them was a shocking one. They were
+much impressed, and they seemed glad to get
+away. But the blacks were still on shore, so
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+that I could not go back for the pearls; and I
+worked the schooner out by myself, and shaped
+a course....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I came to Tubuai, alone thus, a day before
+you, Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
+<h2>IX</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>For a long time after Mark&#8217;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&#8217;s thoughts ranged back, and
+picked up the tale in the beginning, and followed
+it through once more....
+</p>
+<p>They were silent for so long that little Priss,
+in the cabin, drifted from waking dreams to
+dreams in truth. The pictures Mark&#8217;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,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+and he came back and sat down with Mark
+again.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You brought the schooner into Tubuai?&#8221; he
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye. Alone. Half a thousand miles.
+There&#8217;s a task, Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And left it there?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark smiled grimly. &#8220;It was known there,&#8221;
+he said quietly. &#8220;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&mdash;find their
+questions troublesome&mdash;when the <i>Nathan Ross</i>
+came in.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They will ask more questions now,&#8221; said
+Joel.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They must ask them of the schooner; and&mdash;she
+does not speak,&#8221; Mark told him.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></p>
+<p>Joel was troubled and uncertain. &#8220;It&#8217;s&mdash;a
+black thing,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ll not be after me, if that distresses
+you,&#8221; Mark promised him. &#8220;Curiosity does
+not go to such lengths in these waters.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You told no one?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;The pearls were&mdash;my own
+concern. You&#8217;re the first I&#8217;ve told.&#8221; He
+watched his brother. Joel frowned thoughtfully,
+shook his head.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You plan to go back for them?&#8221; he asked.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You and I,&#8221; said Mark casually. Joel
+looked at him in quick surprise; and Mark
+laughed. &#8220;Yes,&#8221; he repeated. &#8220;You and I.
+I am not selfish, Joel. Besides&mdash;there are
+plenty for two.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel, for an instant, found no word; and
+Mark leaned quickly toward him. He tapped
+Joel&#8217;s knee. &#8220;We&#8217;ll work up that way,&#8221; he
+said quietly. &#8220;When we come to the island,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+you and I go ashore, and get them where
+they&#8217;re hid beneath the rock; and we come back
+aboard with no one any wiser.... Rich. A
+double handful of them, Joel....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s eyes were clouded with thought; he
+shook his head slowly. &#8220;What of the blacks?&#8221;
+he asked.
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;They were brought down
+on us by the woman who got away,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;Quint&#8217;s woman. I heard as much that day,
+saw her among them. But&mdash;they&#8217;re gone before
+this.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said slowly: &#8220;You are not sure of that.
+And&mdash;I cannot risk the ship....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark asked sneeringly: &#8220;Are you afraid?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The younger man flushed; but he said steadily:
+&#8220;Yes. Afraid of losing Asa Worthen&#8217;s
+ship for him.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark chuckled unpleasantly. &#8220;I&#8217;m minded
+of what is written, here and there, in the &#8216;Log
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span>
+of the House of Shore,&#8217;&#8221; he said, half to himself.
+And he quoted: &#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were
+valiant....&#8217; There&#8217;s more to that, Joel.
+&#8216;And all the sisters virtuous.&#8217; I had not known
+we had sisters&mdash;but it seems you&#8217;re one, boy.
+Not valiant, by your own admission; but at
+least you&#8217;re fairly virtuous.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel paid no heed to the taunt. &#8220;Asa
+Worthen likes care taken of his ship,&#8221; he said,
+half to himself. &#8220;I&#8217;m thinking he would not
+think well of this.... He&#8217;s not a man to
+gamble....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gamble?&#8221; Mark echoed scornfully. &#8220;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....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You did not think to give him owner&#8217;s
+lay?&#8221; Joel asked.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is this island?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;I&#8217;ll not be too precise&mdash;until
+I have your word, Joel. But&mdash;&#8217;tis to the
+northward.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our course is west, then south.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Since when has the <i>Nathan Ross</i> kept schedule
+and time table like a mail ship?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel shook his head. &#8220;I cannot do it, Mark.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;A risk I have no right to take; and wasted
+weeks, out of our course. For which Asa
+Worthen pays.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark smiled sardonically. &#8220;You&#8217;re vastly
+more virtuous than any sister could be, Joel,
+my dear.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said steadily: &#8220;There may be two
+minds about that. There may be two minds as
+to&mdash;the duty of a captain to his ship and his
+owner. But&mdash;I&#8217;ve shown you my mind in the
+matter.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p>
+<p>Mark leaned toward him, eyes half-friendly.
+&#8220;You&#8217;re wrong, Joel. I&#8217;ll convince you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll not.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;A handful of them,&#8221; Mark whispered.
+&#8220;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....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel shook his head. And Mark, in a sudden
+surge of anger, stormed to his feet with
+clenched hand upraised. &#8220;By the Lord, Joel,
+I&#8217;d not have believed it. You&#8217;re mad; plain
+mad&mdash;sister, dear! You....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said quietly: &#8220;Your schooner is at
+Tubuai. I&#8217;ll set you back there, if you will.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark mocked him. &#8220;Would you throw
+your own brother off the ship he captained?...
+Oh hard, hard heart....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may stay, or go,&#8221; Joel told him.
+&#8220;Have your way.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p>
+<p>Mark&#8217;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: &#8220;With your permission, captain dear,
+I&#8217;ll stay.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded; he rose. &#8220;Young Morrell has
+given you his bunk,&#8221; he said. &#8220;So&mdash;good
+night, to you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He opened the door into the main cabin; and
+Mark, his fingers twitching, went out. He
+turned, spoke over his shoulder. &#8220;Good night;
+and&mdash;pleasant dreams,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span>
+<h2>X</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Even Joel Shore saw the new light in
+Priscilla&#8217;s eyes when she met Mark at
+breakfast in the cabin next morning; and it is
+said husbands are the last to see such things.
+</p>
+<p>That story she had heard the night before,
+the story Mark told Joel in the after cabin, had
+made of him something superhuman in her eyes.
+He was a gigantic, an epic figure; he had lived
+red life, and fought for his life, and killed....
+There was Puritan blood in Priscilla; but overrunning
+it was a flood of warmer life, a cross-strain
+from some southern forebear, which sang
+now in answer to the touch of Mark&#8217;s words.
+She watched him, that morning, with wide eyes
+that were full of wonder and of awe.
+</p>
+<p>Mark saw, and was immensely amused. He
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+asked her: &#8220;Why do you look at me like that,
+little sister? I&#8217;m not going to bite....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla caught herself, and smiled, and
+laughed at him. &#8220;How do I look at you?
+You&#8217;re&mdash;imagining things, Mark.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Am I?&#8221; he asked. And he touched Joel&#8217;s
+arm. &#8220;Look at her, Joel, and see which of us
+is right.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel was eating his breakfast silently, but he
+had seen Priscilla&#8217;s eyes. He looked toward
+her now, and she flushed in spite of herself,
+and got up quickly, and slipped away....
+They watched her go, Joel&#8217;s eyes clouded
+thoughtfully, Mark&#8217;s shining. And when she
+was gone, Mark leaned across and said to Joel
+softly, a devil of mischief in his eyes: &#8220;She
+heard my tale last night, Joel. She was not
+asleep. Fooled you....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel shook his head. &#8220;No. She was
+asleep.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you suppose I know.
+I&#8217;ve seen that look in woman&#8217;s eyes before. In
+the eyes of the little brown girl, the night I
+dropped the fat man overside....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He sat there, chuckling, when Joel got abruptly
+to his feet and went on deck; and when
+he came up the companion a little later, he was
+still chuckling under his breath.
+</p>
+<p>After that first morning, Priss was able to
+cloak her eyes and hide her thoughts; and on
+the surface, life aboard the <i>Nathan Ross</i> seemed
+to go on as before. Mark threw himself into
+the routine of the work, mixing with the men,
+going off in the boats when there was a whale to
+be struck, doing three men&#8217;s share of toil. Joel
+one day remonstrated with him. &#8220;It is not
+wise,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You were captain here; you
+are my brother. It is not wise for you to mix,
+as an equal, with the men.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark only laughed at him. &#8220;Your dignity
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
+is very precious to you, Joel,&#8221; he mocked.
+&#8220;But as for me&mdash;I am not proud. You&#8217;d not
+have me sit aft and twiddle my thumbs and
+hold yarn for little Priss.... And I must be
+doing something....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He and Jim Finch were much together.
+Finch always gave Joel careful obedience, always
+handled the ship when he was in charge
+with smooth efficiency. His boat was the best
+manned and the most successful of the four.
+But he and Joel were not comradely. Joel instinctively
+disliked the big man; and Finch&#8217;s
+servility disgusted him. The mate was full of
+smooth and flattering words, but his eyes were
+shallow.
+</p>
+<p>Mark talked with him long, one morning;
+and then he left Finch and came to Joel, by the
+after house, chuckling as though at some enormous
+jest. &#8220;Will ye look at Finch, there?&#8221;
+he begged.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></p>
+<p>Joel had been watching the two. He saw
+Finch now, standing just forward of the boat
+house with flushed cheeks and eyes fixed and
+hands twitching. The big man was powerfully
+moved by something.... &#8220;What is it that&#8217;s
+got him?&#8221; Joel asked.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve told him about the pearls,&#8221; Mark
+chuckled. &#8220;He&#8217;s wild to be after them....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel turned on his brother hotly. &#8220;You&#8217;re
+mad, Mark,&#8221; he snapped. &#8220;That is no word to
+be loose in the ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve but told Finch,&#8221; Mark protested.
+&#8220;It&#8217;s mirthful to watch the man wiggle.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;ll tell the ship. His tongue wags unceasingly.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark lifted his shoulders. &#8220;Tell him to be
+silent. You should keep order on your ship,
+Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel beckoned, and Finch came toward them.
+As he came, he fought for self control; and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span>
+when he stood before them, his lips were twisting
+into something like a smile, and his eyes
+were shifty and gleaming. Joel said quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Finch, my brother says he has told you
+his story.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir,&#8221; said Finch. &#8220;An extraordinary
+adventure, Captain Shore.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it best the men should know nothing
+about it,&#8221; Joel told him. &#8220;You will please
+keep it to yourself.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch grinned. &#8220;Of course, sir. There&#8217;s no
+need they should have any share in them.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel flushed angrily. &#8220;We are not going
+after them. I consider it dangerous, and unwise.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Over Finch&#8217;s fat cheeks swept a twitching
+grimace of dismay. &#8220;But I thought....&#8221;
+He looked at Mark, and Mark was chuckling.
+&#8220;It&#8217;s so easy, sir,&#8221; he protested. &#8220;Just go, and
+get them.... Rich....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p>
+<p>Joel shook his head. &#8220;Keep silent about the
+matter, Finch.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch slowly bowed his head, and he smirked
+respectfully. &#8220;Very well, Captain Shore,&#8221; he
+agreed. &#8220;You always know best, sir.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He turned away; and after a little Mark said
+softly: &#8220;You have him well trained, Joel.
+Like a little dog.... I wonder that you can
+handle men so....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Two days later, Joel knew that either Finch
+or Mark had told the tale anew. Young Dick
+Morrell came to him with shining eyes. &#8220;Is it
+true, sir, that we&#8217;re going after the pearls your
+brother hid?&#8221; he asked. &#8220;I just heard....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel gripped the boy&#8217;s arm. &#8220;Who told
+you?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Morrell twisted free, half angry. &#8220;I&mdash;overheard
+it, sir. Is it true?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Joel. &#8220;We&#8217;re a whaler, and we
+stick to our trade.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></p>
+<p>Dick lifted both hands, in a gesture almost
+pleading. &#8220;But it would be so simple,
+sir....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Keep the whole matter quiet, Morrell,&#8221; Joel
+told him. &#8220;I do not wish the men to know of
+it. And if you hear any further talk, report it
+to me.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Morrell&#8217;s eyes were sulky. He said slowly:
+&#8220;Yes, sir.&#8221; The set of his shoulders, as he
+stalked forward, seemed to Joel defiant....
+</p>
+<p>Within the week, the whole ship knew the
+story. Old Aaron Burnham, repairing a bunk
+in the fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le, heard the men whispering the
+thing among themselves. &#8220;Tongues hissing
+like little serpents, sir,&#8221; he told Joel, in the
+cabin that night. &#8220;All of pearls, and women,
+and the like.... And a shine in their
+eyes....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thanks, Aaron,&#8221; Joel said. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry the
+men know....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye, they know. Be sure of that,&#8221; Aaron
+repeated, with bobbing head. &#8220;And they&#8217;re
+roused by what they know. Some say you&#8217;re
+going after the pearls, and aim to fraud them of
+their lay. And some say you&#8217;re a mad fool that
+will not go....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s fist, on the table, softly clenched.
+&#8220;What else?&#8221; he asked.
+</p>
+<p>Aaron watched him sidewise. &#8220;There was a
+whisper that you might be made to go....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priscilla saw, that night, that Joel was troubled.
+She and Mark were together on the cushioned
+seat in the after cabin, and Joel sat at his
+desk, over the log. Mark was telling Priss an
+expurgated version of some one of his adventures;
+and Joel, looking once or twice that way,
+saw the quick-caught breath in her throat,
+saw her tremulous interest.... And his eyes
+clouded, so that when Priscilla chanced to look
+toward him, she saw, and cried:
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Joel! What&#8217;s the matter? You look
+so....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He looked from one of them to the other for
+a space; and then his eyes rested on Mark&#8217;s, and
+he said slowly: &#8220;It&#8217;s in my mind that I&#8217;d have
+done best to set you ashore at Tubuai, Mark.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed; but Priss cried hotly:
+&#8220;Joel! What a perfectly horrible thing to
+say!&#8221; Her voice had grown deeper and more
+resonant of late, Joel thought. It was no
+longer the voice of a girl, but of a woman....
+Mark touched her arm.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t care about him,&#8221; he told her.
+&#8220;That&#8217;s only brotherly love....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He oughtn&#8217;t to say it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said quietly: &#8220;This is a matter you do
+not understand, Priscilla. You would do well
+to keep silent. It is my affair.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>A month before, this would have swept Priss
+into a fury of anger; but this night, though her
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+eyes burned with slow resentment, she bit her
+lips and was still. A month ago, she would
+have forgotten over night. Now she would remember....
+</p>
+<p>Mark got up, laughed. &#8220;He&#8217;s bad company,
+Priss,&#8221; he told her. &#8220;Come on deck with me.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She rose, readily enough; and they went out
+through the main cabin, and up the companionway.
+Joel watched them go. They left open
+the door into the cabin, and he heard Varde and
+Finch, at the table there, talking in husky whispers.... It
+was so, he knew, over the whole
+ship. Everywhere, the men were whispering.... There
+hung over the <i>Nathan Ross</i> a cloud
+as definite as a man&#8217;s hand; and every man
+scowled&mdash;save Mark Shore. Mark smiled
+with malicious delight at the gathering storm he
+had provoked....
+</p>
+<p>Joel, left in the after cabin, felt terribly
+lonely. He wanted Priss with him, laughing,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+at his side. His longing for her was like a hot
+coal in his throat, burning there. And she had
+taken sides with Mark, against him.... His
+shoulders shook with the sudden surge of his
+desire to grip Mark&#8217;s lean throat.... Ashore,
+he would have done so. But as things were,
+the ship was his first charge; and a break with
+Mark would precipitate the thing that menaced
+the ship.... He could not fight Mark without
+risking the <i>Nathan Ross</i>; and he could not
+risk the <i>Nathan Ross</i>. Not even.... His
+head dropped for an instant in his arms, and
+then he got up quickly, and shook himself, and
+set his lips.... No man aboard must see the
+trouble in his heart....
+</p>
+<p>He went through the main cabin, and
+climbed to the deck. There was some sea running,
+and a wind that brushed aside all smaller
+sounds, so that he made little noise. Thus,
+when he reached the top of the companion, he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>
+saw two dark figures in the shadows of the boat
+house, closely clasped....
+</p>
+<p>He stood for an instant, white hot.... His
+wife, and Mark.... His little Priss, and his
+brother....
+</p>
+<p>Then he went quietly below, and glanced
+at the chart, and chose a course upon it.
+The nearest land; he and Mark ashore together....
+His blood ran hungrily at the
+thought....
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+<h2>XI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Priscilla went on deck that night so
+angry with Joel that she could have
+killed him; and Mark played upon her as a
+skilled hand plays upon the harp. It was such
+a night as the South Seas know, warm and languorous,
+the wind caressing, and the salt spray
+stinging gently on the cheek. The moon was
+near the full, and it laid a path of silver on the
+water. This path was like the road to fairyland;
+and Mark told Priscilla so. He dropped
+into a gay little phantasy that he conceived on
+the moment, a story of fairies, and of dancing
+in the moonlight, and of a man and a woman,
+hand in hand....
+</p>
+<p>She felt the spell he laid upon her, and struggled
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+against it. &#8220;Tell me about the last fight,
+when the little brown girl was killed,&#8221; she
+begged.
+</p>
+<p>He had told her snatches of his story here
+and there; but he had not, till that night, spoken
+of the pearls. When Priss heard of them, she
+swung about and lifted up her face to his, listening
+like a child. And Mark told the story with
+a tongue of gold, so that she saw it all; the lagoon,
+blue in the sun; and the schooner creeping
+in from the sea; and the hours of flight through
+the semi-jungle of the island, with the blacks in
+such hot pursuit. He told her of the times
+when they surrounded him, when he fought
+himself free.... How he got a great stone
+and gripped it in his hand, and how with this
+stone he crushed the skull of a young black with
+but one eye. Priss shuddered with delicious
+horror at the tale....
+</p>
+<p>She loved best to hear of the little brown girl
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
+whom Mark had loved; and that would have
+told either of them, if they had stopped to consider,
+that she did not love Mark. Else she
+would have hated the other, brown or white....
+And he told how the brown girl saved
+him, and gave her life in the saving, and how
+he had stopped at a little atoll on his homeward
+way and buried her.... She had died in his
+arms, smiling because she lay there....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the pearls?&#8221; Priss asked, when she had
+heard the story through. &#8220;You left them
+there?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;There they are still,&#8221; he told her. &#8220;Safely
+hid away.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;How many?&#8221; she asked. &#8220;Are they
+lovely?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Three big ones, and thirty-two of a fair
+size, and enough little ones and seeds to make a
+double handful.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But why did you leave them there?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;The black men were on the island. They
+were there, and watchful, and very angry.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t you have kept them in your
+pocket?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He laughed. &#8220;That other schooner made me
+cautious. Man&#8217;s life is cheap, in such matters.
+And if they guessed I had such things upon me....
+If I slept too soundly, or the like....
+D&#8217;ye see?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She nodded her dark head. &#8220;I see. But
+you&#8217;ll go back....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He chuckled at that, and tapped on the rail
+with one knuckle, in a thoughtful way. &#8220;I had
+thought that Joel and I would go, in the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i>, and fetch the things away,&#8221; he
+said.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course,&#8221; she exclaimed. &#8220;That would
+be so easy.... I&#8217;d love to see the&mdash;pearls....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Easy? That was my own thought,&#8221; he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+agreed. Something in his tone prompted her
+question.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Joel objects,&#8221; he said drily.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&mdash;won&#8217;t. But why? I don&#8217;t understand.
+Why?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;He speaks of a matter of
+duty, not to risk the ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is there a risk?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221; He chuckled maliciously. &#8220;As a
+matter of cold fact, Priss, I&#8217;m fearful that Joel
+is a bit&mdash;timid in such affairs.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She flamed at him: &#8220;Afraid?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He nodded.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t believe it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>His eyes shone. &#8220;What a loyal little bride?
+But&mdash;I taxed him with it. And&mdash;that was the
+word he used....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She was so angry that she beat upon Mark&#8217;s
+great breast with her tiny fists. &#8220;It&#8217;s not true!
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+It&#8217;s not true!&#8221; she cried. &#8220;You know....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Abruptly, Mark took fire. She was swept in
+his arms, clipped there, half-lifted from the
+deck to meet his lips that dipped to hers. She
+was like nothing in his grasp; she could not
+stir.... And from his lips, and circling arms,
+and great body the hot fire of the man flung
+through her.... She fought him.... But
+even in that terrific moment she knew that Joel
+had never swept or whelmed her so....
+</p>
+<p>She twisted her face away.... And thus,
+from the shadow where they stood, she saw Joel.
+He was at the top of the cabin companion, looking
+toward them, his face illumined by the light
+from below. And she watched for an instant,
+frozen with terror, expecting him to leap toward
+them and plunge at Mark and buffet him....
+</p>
+<p>Joel stood for an instant, unstirring. Then
+he turned, very quietly, and went down stairs
+again into the cabin....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p>
+<p>She thought, sickly, that he had shirked; he
+had seen, and held his hand....
+</p>
+<p>What was it Mark had said? Afraid....
+</p>
+<p>Mark had not seen Joel. He kissed her
+again. Then she twisted away from him, and
+fled below.
+</p>
+<p>Joel was at his desk. He did not look up at
+her coming; and she stood for an instant, behind
+him, watching his bent head....
+</p>
+<p>Then she slipped into her own cabin, and
+snapped the latch, and plunged her face in her
+pillow to stifle bursting sobs.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
+<h2>XII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The <i>Nathan Ross</i> changed course that
+day; and the word went around the ship.
+It passed from man to man. There was whispering;
+and there were dark looks, flung toward
+Joel.
+</p>
+<p>Joel kept the deck all day, silent, and watchful,
+and waiting. Mark spoke to him once or
+twice, asking what he meant to do. Joel told
+him nothing. He had fought out his fight the
+night before; he knew himself....
+</p>
+<p>Mark and Finch talked together, during the
+morning. Joel watched them without comment.
+Later he saw Mark speak to the other
+mates, one by one. At dinner in the cabin, the
+mates were silent. Their eyes had something
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
+of shame in them, and something of venomous
+hate.... They already hated Joel, whom
+they planned to wrong....
+</p>
+<p>The day was fair, and the wind drove them
+smoothly. There was no work to be done,
+never a spout on the sea. Joel, watching once
+or twice the whispering groups of idle men,
+wished a whale might be sighted; and once he
+sent Morrell and Varde to find tasks for the
+men to do, and kept them at it through the long
+afternoon, scraping, scrubbing, painting....
+</p>
+<p>Priss kept to her cabin. When she did not
+appear at breakfast, Joel went to her door and
+knocked. She called to him: &#8220;I&#8217;ve a headache.
+I&#8217;m going to rest.&#8221; He ordered that
+food be sent to her....
+</p>
+<p>He stayed on deck till late, that night; but
+with the coming of night the ship had grown
+quiet, and most of the men were below in the
+fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le. So at last Joel left the deck to Varde,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span>
+and went below. He sat down at his desk and
+wrote up the day&#8217;s log....
+</p>
+<p>Priss came to him there. She had been in
+bed; and she wore a heavy dressing gown over
+her night garments. Her hair was braided,
+hanging across her shoulders. She sat down
+beside the desk, and when Joel could fight back
+the misery in his eyes, he looked toward her
+and asked:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is your head&mdash;better?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She said very quietly: &#8220;Joel, I want to
+ask you something.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He wanted her sympathy so terribly, and her
+tone was so cool and so aloof that he winced;
+but he said: &#8220;Very well?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark says he asked you to take the <i>Nathan
+Ross</i> to get&mdash;the pearls he left on that island.
+Is that true?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Joel.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He says you would not do it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I will not do it,&#8221; Joel told her.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He says,&#8221; said Priss quietly, &#8220;that you are
+afraid. He says that was your own word ...
+when he accused you. Is that true?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>If there had been any sympathy or understanding
+in her voice or in her eyes, he would
+have told her ... told her that it was for his
+ship and not for himself that he was afraid.
+But there was not. She was so cold and hard....
+He would not seek to justify himself to
+her....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he said quietly. &#8220;I used that word.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She turned her eyes quickly away from his,
+that he might not see the pain in hers.... She
+rose to go back to her cabin....
+</p>
+<p>As she reached the door, some one knocked on
+the door that led to the main cabin; and without
+waiting for word from Joel, that door
+opened. Mark stood there. He came in, with
+Finch, and Varde, and old Hooper and young
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
+Morrell on his heels.... Priss shrank back
+into her cabin, closed the door to a crack, listened....
+</p>
+<p>Joel got to his feet. &#8220;What is it?&#8221; he
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>Mark bowed low, faced his brother with a
+cold and triumphant smile. &#8220;These gentlemen
+have asked me,&#8221; he explained, &#8220;to tell you that
+we have decided to go fetch the pearls.&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+<h2>XIII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>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....
+</p>
+<p>There was a long moment when no one of the
+men in the after cabin spoke. Then big Jim
+Finch said suavely: &#8220;That is to say, if Captain
+Shore does not object.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel asked then: &#8220;What if I do object?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;If you do object, why&mdash;we&#8217;ll
+just go anyway. But you&#8217;ll have no
+share.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And surly Varde added: &#8220;We&#8217;d as soon you
+did object.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark bade him be quiet. &#8220;That&#8217;s not true,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span>
+Joel,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You know, I wanted you in
+this, from the first. Your coming in will&mdash;prevent
+complications. With you in, the whole
+matter is very simple, and safe.... But without
+you, we will be forced to take measures that
+may be&mdash;reprehensible.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel did not speak; and Priss, trembling
+against the door, thought bitterly: &#8220;He&#8217;s
+afraid.... He said, himself, that he is
+afraid....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Dick Morrell begged eagerly: &#8220;Please, Captain
+Shore. There&#8217;s a fortune for all of us.
+Mr. Worthen would tell you to do it....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said then: &#8220;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&mdash;and
+there are blacks on the island to prevent our
+finding them, in any case.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s no harm in going to see,&#8221; Morrell
+urged.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis far out of our proper way. Wasted
+time. And&mdash;the men should be thinking of oil,
+not of pearls.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;That may be,&#8221; he agreed.
+&#8220;But the men&#8217;s thoughts are already on the
+pearls. They&#8217;ve no mind for whaling, Joel.
+They&#8217;ve no mind for it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m doubtful that what you say is true.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>His brother snapped angrily: &#8220;Do you call
+me liar?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Joel gently. &#8220;You were never
+one to lie, Mark.&#8221; 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:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s well you remember that. So....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+Will you go with us; or do we go without
+you?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There was a long moment of silence before
+Joel answered. At last he said: &#8220;You&#8217;re
+making to spill blood on the <i>Nathan Ross</i>,
+Mark. I&#8217;ve no mind for that. I&#8217;ll not have it&mdash;if
+I can stop it. So ... I&#8217;ll consider this
+matter, to-night, and give you your answer in
+the morning.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll answer now,&#8221; Varde said sullenly.
+&#8220;There&#8217;s too much words and words....
+You&#8217;ll answer now.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll answer in the morning,&#8221; Joel repeated,
+as though he had not heard Varde. &#8220;In the
+morning. And&mdash;for now&mdash;I&#8217;ll bid you good
+night, gentlemen.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark chuckled. &#8220;There&#8217;s one matter, Joel.
+You&#8217;ve two rifles and a pair of revolvers in
+the lockfast by your cabin there. I&#8217;ll take
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
+them&mdash;to avoid that blood-spilling you mention.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss held her breath, listening.... But
+Joel said readily: &#8220;Yes. Here is the key,
+Mark. And&mdash;I hold you responsible for the
+weapons.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>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:
+&#8220;They&#8217;ll not leave my hands. Till the morning,
+Joel, my boy....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The keys jingled again. Mark said:
+&#8220;We&#8217;ll ask you to stay in the after cabin here
+till morning. And&mdash;Varde will be in the main
+cabin to see that you do it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll stay here,&#8221; Joel promised.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then&mdash;we&#8217;ll bid you good night!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss heard Joel echo the words, in even
+tones. Then the door closed behind the men.... There
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span>
+was no further sound in the after
+cabin.
+</p>
+<p>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:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant,&#8217; Joel. Are
+you&mdash;just a coward?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He would not justify himself to her; he could
+only remember the shadowed deck beneath the
+boat house&mdash;Priscilla in his brother&#8217;s arms....
+He lifted his right hand a little, said
+sternly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go back to your place.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She flung her eyes away from him, stood for
+an instant, then went to her cabin with feet that
+lagged and stumbled.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+<h2>XIV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Joel lay for an hour, planning what he
+should do. He could not yield.... He
+could not yield, even though he might wish to
+do so; for the yielding would forfeit forever
+all control over these men, or any others. He
+could not yield....
+</p>
+<p>Yet he did not wish to fight; for the battle
+would be hopeless, with only death at the end
+for him, and it would ruin the men and lose the
+ship.... Blood marks a ship with a mark that
+cannot be washed away. And Joel loved his
+ship; and he loved his men with something
+of the love of a father for children. Children
+they were. He knew them. Simple, easily
+led, easily swept by some adventurous
+vision....
+</p>
+<p>He slept, at last, dreamlessly; and in the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+morning, when they came to him, he told them
+what he wished to do.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Call the men aft,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I&#8217;ll speak to
+them. We&#8217;ll see what their will is.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark mocked him. &#8220;Ask the men, is it?&#8221;
+he exclaimed. &#8220;Let them vote, you&#8217;ll be saying.
+Are you master of the ship, man; or just
+first selectman, that you&#8217;d call a town meeting
+on the high seas?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll talk with the men,&#8221; said Joel stubbornly.
+</p>
+<p>Varde strode forward angrily. &#8220;You&#8217;ll talk
+with us,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Yes or no. Now. What
+is it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They were in the main cabin. Joel looked
+at Varde steadily for an instant; then he said:
+&#8220;I&#8217;m going on deck. You&#8217;ll come....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Priss, in the door of the after cabin, a frightened
+and trembling little figure, called to him:
+&#8220;Joel. Joel. Don&#8217;t....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p>
+<p>He said, without turning: &#8220;Stay in your
+cabin, Priscilla.&#8221; And then he passed between
+Varde and Finch, at the foot of the companion,
+and turned his back upon them and went steadily
+up the steep, ladder-like stair. Varde made
+a convulsive movement to seize his arm; but
+Mark touched the man, held him with his eyes,
+whispered something....
+</p>
+<p>They had left old Hooper on deck. He and
+Aaron Burnham were standing in the after
+house when Joel saw them. Joel said to the
+third mate: &#8220;Mr. Hooper, tell the men to lay
+aft.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark had come up at Joel&#8217;s heels; and
+Hooper looked past Joel to Mark for confirmation.
+And Mark smiled mirthlessly, and approved.
+&#8220;Yes, Mr. Hooper, call the men,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;We&#8217;re to hold a town meeting.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Old Hooper&#8217;s slow brain could not follow
+such maneuvering; nevertheless, he bellowed a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+command. And the harpooners from the steerage,
+and the men from forecastle and fore deck
+came stumbling and crowding aft. The men
+stopped amidships; and Joel went toward them
+a little ways, until he was under the boat house.
+The mates stood about him, the harpooners a
+little to one side; and Mark leaned on the rail
+at the other side of the deck, watching, smiling....
+The revolvers were in his belt; the rifles
+leaned against the after rail. He polished the
+butt of one of the revolvers while he watched
+and smiled....
+</p>
+<p>Joel said, without preamble: &#8220;Men, the
+mates tell me that you&#8217;ve heard of my brother&#8217;s
+pearls.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The men looked at one another, and at the
+mates. They were a jumbled lot, riff-raff of
+all the seas, Cape Verders, Islanders, a Cockney
+or two, a Frenchman, two or three Norsemen,
+and a backbone of New England stock. They
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>
+looked at one another, and at the mates, with
+stupid, questioning eyes; and one or two of them
+nodded in a puzzled way, and the Cape Verders
+grinned with embarrassment. A New Englander
+drawled:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye, sir. We&#8217;ve heard th&#8217; tale.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel nodded. &#8220;When my brother came
+aboard at Tubuai,&#8221; he said quietly, &#8220;he proposed
+that we go to this island.... I do not
+know its position&mdash;&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark drawled from across the deck: &#8220;You
+know as much as any man aboard&mdash;myself excepted,
+Joel. It&#8217;s my own secret, mind.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He proposed that we go to this island,&#8221; Joel
+pursued, &#8220;and that he and I go ashore and get
+the pearls and say nothing about them.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Varde, at Joel&#8217;s side, swung his head and
+looked bleakly at Mark Shore; and one or two
+of the men murmured. Joel said quickly:
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t misunderstand. I&#8217;m not blaming him
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
+for that. You must not. The pearls are his.
+He has a right to them....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;What I want you to know is that I refused
+to go with him and get them on half shares. I
+could have had half, and refused....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now he has spread the story among you.
+And the mates say that I must go with you all,
+and get the things.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He stopped, and the eyes of the men were on
+him; and one or two nodded, and a voice here
+and there exclaimed in approval. Joel waited
+until they were quiet again; then he said:
+&#8220;These&mdash;pearls&mdash;have cost life. At least five
+men and a woman died in the getting of them.
+If we had them aboard here, more of us would
+die; for none would be content with his
+share....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s in my mind that they&#8217;d bring blood
+aboard the <i>Nathan Ross</i>. And I have no wish
+for that. But first&mdash;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;How many of you are for going after
+them?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There was a murmur of assent from many
+throats; and Joel looked from man to man.
+&#8220;Most of you, at least,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Is there any
+man against going?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There may have been, but no man spoke; and
+over Joel&#8217;s face passed a weary little shadow of
+pain. For a long moment he stood in the sun,
+studying them; and they saw his lips were
+white. Then he said quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You shall not go. The <i>Nathan Ross</i> goes
+on about her proper matters. The pearls stay
+where they are.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He shifted his weight, looked quickly toward
+his brother.... He was poised for battle.
+By the very force of his word, there was a
+chance he might prevail. He watched the men,
+in whose hands the answer lay. If he could
+hold them....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p>
+<p>Hands clamped his arms, and Mark smiled
+across the deck. Finch and old Hooper on one
+side, Varde and Morrell on the other. And
+after the first wrench of his surprise, he knew it
+was hopeless to struggle, and stood quietly.
+Mark strolled across the deck, smiling coldly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you&#8217;ll not go, Joel, you must be taken,&#8221;
+he said. And to the mates: &#8220;Bring back his
+arms.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel felt the cord slipped through his elbows
+and drawn tight and looped and made secure.
+Old Aaron Burnham pushed forward and
+tugged at them; and Joel heard him say:
+&#8220;They&#8217;ll hold him fast, Captain Shore. Like
+a trussed fowl, sir. That he is....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Captain Shore?&#8221; That would be Mark,
+come into command of the ship again. And
+Aaron added: &#8220;I&#8217;ve set the bolt on his cabin
+door, sir. Not five minutes gone.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark laughed. &#8220;Good enough, Aaron.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span>
+You and Varde take him down. Varde, you&#8217;ll
+stay in the after cabin. If he tries to get free,
+summon me. And&mdash;treat Mrs. Shore with the
+utmost courtesy.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Varde was at Joel&#8217;s side; and Joel saw the
+twist of his smile at Mark&#8217;s last word. For a
+moment, thought of Priss left Joel sick. He
+thrust the thought aside....
+</p>
+<p>They took him down into the main cabin;
+Varde ahead, then Joel, and old Aaron close behind,
+his hand on Joel&#8217;s elbow. Priss met them
+in the after cabin, crouching in a corner, white
+and still, her hands at her throat. Her eyes
+met his for an instant, before Varde led him
+toward his own cabin. Aaron, behind, looked
+toward Priss; and the girl whispered hoarsely:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is he&mdash;hurt?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is not,&#8221; said Aaron grimly. &#8220;We were
+most gentle with the man; and he made no
+struggle at all....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p>
+<p>Varde thrust Joel into the little cabin where
+his bunk was; and Joel heard the snick of a
+new-set bolt on the outer side of the door. He
+was alone, bound fast....
+</p>
+<p>Before he left the deck, he had heard Mark
+cry an order to the man at the wheel. The telltale
+in the after cabin ceiling told him the
+<i>Nathan Ross</i> had changed her course again ... for
+Mark&#8217;s island.... In the face of
+men, he had held himself steady and calm....
+But now, alone in his cabin, he strained at
+his bonds, lips cracking over set teeth. He
+strained and tugged.... Hopeless....
+</p>
+<p>No! Not hopeless! He felt them yield a
+little, a little more.... Then, with a tiny snap
+of sound, the coils were loose, and he shook the
+cords down over his wrists and hands. He
+caught them as they fell across his fingers, lest
+the sound of their fall might warn Varde, in the
+cabin outside his door; and&mdash;he was still stupefied
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span>
+by the surprise of this deliverance&mdash;he
+lifted the broken bonds and examined
+them....
+</p>
+<p>A single strand had yielded, loosing all the
+rest. And where it had broken, Joel saw, it
+had been sliced all but through, with a keen
+blade.
+</p>
+<p>Who? His thoughts raced back over the
+brief minutes of his bondage. Who?
+</p>
+<p>No other but Aaron Burnham could have had
+the chance and the good will. Old Aaron.... And
+Aaron&#8217;s knives were always razor
+sharp. Drawn once across the tight-stretched
+cord....
+</p>
+<p>Aaron had freed him. Aaron....
+</p>
+<p>He remembered something else. Aaron&#8217;s
+words to Mark on deck. &#8220;I&#8217;ve set the bolt on
+his cabin door....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Aaron had set the new bolt that was the only
+bar between him and the after cabin, where
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+Varde stood watch. Aaron had set the bolt;
+and Aaron had cut his bonds. Therefore&mdash;the
+bolt must be flimsy, easily forced away. That
+would be Aaron&#8217;s plan. A single thrust would
+open the way....
+</p>
+<p>He turned toward the door; then caught himself,
+drew back, dropped on the bunk and lay
+there, planning what he must do.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+<h2>XV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The discovery of Aaron&#8217;s loyalty had been
+immensely heartening to Joel. If Aaron
+were loyal, there might be others.... Must
+be.... Not all men are false....
+</p>
+<p>He wondered who they would be; he went
+over the men, one by one, from mate to humblest
+foremast hand. Finch and Varde were
+surely against him. Old Hooper&mdash;he and
+Aaron were cronies, and the other mates had
+left Hooper somewhat out of their movements
+thus far. Old Hooper might be, give him his
+chance, on Joel&#8217;s side....
+</p>
+<p>Old Hooper, and Aaron. Two. Dick Morrell?
+A boy, hot with the wonder and glamor
+of Mark&#8217;s tale. Easily swung to either side.
+Joel thought he would not swing too desperately
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+to the lawless side. But&mdash;he could not
+be counted on. What others were there?
+</p>
+<p>Joel had brought his own harpooner from the
+<i>Martin Wilkes</i>. A big Island black. A decent
+man.... A chance. Besides him, there
+were three men who had served Asa Worthen
+long among the foremast hands. Uncertain
+quantities. Chances everywhere....
+</p>
+<p>But&mdash;he must strike quickly. There was no
+time to sound them out. When his dinner was
+brought at noon, his broken bonds would be discovered.
+They would be more careful thereafter.
+Three hours lay before him....
+</p>
+<p>He set himself to listen with all his ears; to
+guess at what was going on above decks, and so
+choose his moment. He must wait as long as it
+was safe to wait; he must wait till men&#8217;s bloods
+ran less hot after the crisis of the morning. He
+must wait till sober second thought was upon
+them....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p>
+<p>But there was always the chance to fear that
+Mark might come down. He could not wait
+too long....
+</p>
+<p>He could hear feet moving on the deck above
+his head. The <i>Nathan Ross</i> had run into
+rougher weather with her change of course;
+the wind was stiffening, and now and then
+a whisk of spray came aboard. He heard
+Jim Finch&#8217;s bellowing commands.... Heard
+Mark&#8217;s laughter. Mark and Jim were astern,
+fairly over his head.
+</p>
+<p>There were men in the main cabin. The
+scrape of their feet, the murmur of their voices
+came to him. Dick Morrell and old Hooper,
+perhaps....
+</p>
+<p>It was through these men that Joel&#8217;s moment
+came. Finch, on deck, shouted down to them.... Mark
+had decided to shorten sail, ease the
+strain on the old masts. Joel heard Morrell
+and Hooper go up to the deck....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p>
+<p>That would mean most of the men aloft....
+The decks would be fairly clear. His
+chance....
+</p>
+<p>He wished he could know where Varde sat;
+but he could not be sure of that, and he could
+not wait to guess by listening. He caught up a
+blanket from his bunk, held it open in his hands,
+drew back&mdash;and threw himself against the cabin
+door.
+</p>
+<p>It opened so easily that he overbalanced, all
+but fell. The screws had been set in punch
+holes so large that the threads scarce took hold
+at all. Joel stumbled out&mdash;saw Varde on the
+cushioned bench which ran across the stern.
+The mate was reading, a book from Joel&#8217;s narrow
+shelf. At sight of Joel, he was for an instant
+paralyzed with surprise....
+</p>
+<p>That instant was long enough for Joel. He
+swept the blanket down upon the man, smothering
+his cries with fold on fold; and he grappled
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
+Varde, and crushed him, and beat at his head
+with his fists until the mate&#8217;s spasmodic struggles
+slackened. Priss had heard the sounds of
+combat, swept out of her cabin, bent above
+them. He looked up and saw her; and he said
+quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get back into your place.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She cried pitifully: &#8220;I want to help.
+Please....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He shook his head. &#8220;This is my task.
+Quick.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>She fled....
+</p>
+<p>He lifted Varde and carried him back to the
+cabin where he himself had been captive; and
+there, with the cords that had bound his own
+arms, he bound Varde, wrist and ankle; and he
+stripped away the blanket, and stuffed into
+Varde&#8217;s mouth a heavy, woolen sock, and tied it
+there with a handkerchief.... Varde&#8217;s eyes
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+flickered open at the last; and Joel said to him:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must leave you here for the present. You
+will do well to lie quietly.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He left the man lying on the floor, and went
+out into the after cabin and salvaged the bolt
+and screws that had been sent flying by his
+thrust. He put the bolt back in place, pushed
+the screws into the holes, bolted the door.... No
+trace remained of his escape....
+</p>
+<p>Priss stood in her own door. Without looking
+at her, he opened the door into the main
+cabin. That apartment was empty, as he had
+expected. The companion stair led to the
+deck....
+</p>
+<p>But he could not go up that way. Mark
+and Jim Finch were within reach of the top of
+the stair; he would be at a disadvantage, coming
+up to them from below. He must reach the
+deck before they saw him.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p>
+<p>He crossed the cabin to a lockfast, and
+opened it, and took out the two pairs of heavy
+ship&#8217;s irons that lay there. Spring handcuffs
+that locked without a key.... He put one
+pair in each pocket of his coat.
+</p>
+<p>There was a seldom used door that opened
+from the main cabin into a passage which led in
+turn to the steerage where the harpooners slept.
+Joel stepped to this door, slipped the bolt, entered
+the passage, and closed the door behind
+him.
+</p>
+<p>It was black dark, where he stood. The passage
+was unlighted; and the swinging lamp in
+the steerage did not send its rays this far. The
+<i>Nathan Ross</i> was heeling and bucking heavily
+in the cross seas, and Joel chose his footing carefully,
+and moved forward along the passage, his
+hands braced against the wall on either side.
+The way was short, scarce half a dozen feet;
+but he was long in covering the distance, and he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
+paused frequently to listen. He had no wish
+to encounter the harpooners in their narrow
+quarters....
+</p>
+<p>He heard, at last, the muffled sound of a
+snore; and so covered the last inches of his way
+more quickly. When he was able to look into
+the place, he saw that two of the men were in
+their bunks, apparently asleep. The black
+whom he had brought from the <i>Nathan Ross</i>
+was not there. Joel was glad to think he was
+on deck; glad to hope for the chance of his
+help....
+</p>
+<p>With steps so slow he seemed like a shadow
+in the semi-darkness, he crossed to the foot of
+the ladder that led to the deck. The men in
+their bunks still slept. He began to climb.... The
+ship was rolling heavily, so that he
+was forced to grip the ladder tightly.... One
+of the sleepers stirred, and Joel froze where he
+stood, and watched, and waited for endless
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span>
+seconds till the man became quiet once more.
+</p>
+<p>He climbed till his head was on a level with
+the deck still hidden by the sides of the scuttle
+at the top of the ladder. And there he poised
+himself; for the last steps to the deck must be
+made in a single rush, so quickly that interference
+would be impossible....
+</p>
+<p>He made them; one ... three.... He
+stood upon the deck, looked aft....
+</p>
+<p>Mark and Jim Finch stood there, not ten feet
+away from him. Finch&#8217;s back was turned, but
+Mark saw Joel instantly; and Joel, watching,
+saw Mark&#8217;s mouth widen in a broad and mischievously
+delighted smile.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
+<h2>XVI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>At the moment when Joel reached the
+deck, the other men aboard the <i>Nathan
+Ross</i> were widely scattered.
+</p>
+<p>Varde, the second mate, he had left tied and
+helpless in the cabin. Two of the four harpooners
+were below in their bunks, asleep. The
+greater part of one watch was likewise below,
+in the fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le; and the rest of the crew, under
+Dick Morrell&#8217;s eye, were shortening sail. In
+the after part of the ship there were only Mark
+Shore, Finch, a foremast hand at the wheel, old
+Aaron Burnham, and the cook. Of these,
+Mark, Jim, and the man at the wheel were in
+sight when Joel appeared; and only Mark had
+seen him.
+</p>
+<p>Joel saw his brother smile, and stood for an
+instant, poised to meet an attack. None came.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+He swept his eyes forward and saw that he need
+fear no immediate interference from that direction;
+and so he went quietly toward the men
+astern. The broad back of Jim Finch was
+within six feet of him....
+</p>
+<p>What moved Mark Shore in that moment, it
+is hard to say. It may have been the reckless
+spirit of the man, willing to wait and watch and
+see what Joel would do; or it may have been the
+distaste he must have felt for Jim Finch&#8217;s slavish
+adulation; or it may have been an unadmitted
+admiration for Joel&#8217;s courage....
+</p>
+<p>At any rate, while Joel advanced, Mark stood
+still and smiled; and he gave Finch no warning,
+so that when Joel touched the mate&#8217;s elbow,
+Finch whirled with a startled gasp of surprise
+and consternation, and in his first panic, tried to
+back away. Still Mark made no move. The
+man at the wheel uttered one exclamation,
+looked quickly at Mark for commands, and took
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+his cue from his leader. Finch was left alone
+and unsupported to face Joel.
+</p>
+<p>Joel did not pursue the retreating mate. He
+stepped to the rail, where the whaleboats hung,
+and called to Finch quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Finch, step here.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch had retreated until his shoulders were
+braced against the wall of the after house. He
+leaned there, hands outspread against the wall
+behind him, staring at Joel with goggling eyes.
+And Joel said again:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come here, Mr. Finch.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s composure, and the determination and
+the confidence in his tone, frightened Finch.
+He clamored suddenly: &#8220;How did he get here,
+Captain Shore? Jump him. Tie him up&mdash;you&mdash;Aaron....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He appealed to the man at the wheel, and to
+old Aaron, who had appeared in the doorway of
+the tiny compartment where his tools were
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+stored. Neither stirred. Mark Shore, chuckling,
+stared at Finch and at Joel; and Finch
+cried:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Captain Shore. Come on. Let&#8217;s get
+him....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel said for the third time: &#8220;Come here,
+Finch.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch held out a hand to Mark, appealingly.
+Mark shook his head. &#8220;This is your affair,
+Finch,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Go get him, yourself. He&#8217;s
+waiting for you. And&mdash;you&#8217;re twice his size.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Give Finch his due. With even moral support
+behind him, he would have overwhelmed
+Joel in a single rush. Without that support,
+he would still have faced any reasonable attack.
+But there was something baffling about Joel&#8217;s
+movements, his tones, the manner of his command,
+that stupefied Finch. He felt that he
+was groping in the dark. The mutiny must
+have collapsed.... It may have been only
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+a snare to trap him.... He was alone&mdash;against
+Joel, and with none to support him....
+</p>
+<p>Finch&#8217;s courage was not of the solitary kind.
+He took one slow step toward Joel, and in that
+single step was surrender.
+</p>
+<p>Joel stood still, but his eyes held the big
+man&#8217;s; and he said curtly: &#8220;Quickly, Finch.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch took another lagging step, another....
+</p>
+<p>Joel dropped his hand in his coat pocket and
+drew out a pair of irons. He tossed them toward
+Finch; and the mate shrank, and the
+irons struck him in the body and fell to the deck.
+He stared down at them, stared at Joel.
+</p>
+<p>Joel said: &#8220;Pick them up. Snap one on your
+right wrist. Then put your arms around the
+davit, there, and snap the other....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Finch shook his head in a bewildered way, as
+though trying to understand; and abruptly, a
+surge of honest anger swept him, and he stiffened,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
+and wheeled to rush at Joel. But Joel
+made no move either to retreat or to meet the
+attack; and Finch, like a huge and baffled bear,
+slumped again, and slowly stooped, and gathered
+up the handcuffs....
+</p>
+<p>With them in his hands, he looked again at
+Joel; and for a long moment their eyes battled.
+Then Joel stepped forward, touched Finch
+lightly on the arm, and guided him toward the
+rail. Finch was absolutely unresisting. The
+sap had gone out of him....
+</p>
+<p>Joel drew the man&#8217;s arms around the davit,
+and snapped the irons upon his wrist. Finch
+was fast there, out of whatever action there was
+to come. And Joel&#8217;s lips tightened with relief.
+He stepped back....
+</p>
+<p>He saw, then, that some of the crew had
+heard, and three or four of them were gathering
+amidships, near the try works. The two
+harpooners were there; and one of them was
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+that black whom Joel had brought from the
+<i>Martin Wilkes</i>, and in whom he placed some
+faith. He eyed these men for a moment, wondering
+whether they were nerved to strike....
+</p>
+<p>But they did not stir, they did not move toward
+him; and he guessed they were as stupefied
+as Finch by what had happened. So long
+as the men aft allowed him to go free, they
+would not interfere. They did not understand;
+and without understanding, they were
+helpless.
+</p>
+<p>He turned his back on them, and looked toward
+Mark.
+</p>
+<p>Mark Shore had watched Joel&#8217;s encounter
+with Finch in frank enjoyment. Such incidents
+pleased him; they appealed to his love
+for the bold and daring facts of life.... He
+had smiled.
+</p>
+<p>But now Joel saw that he had stepped back a
+little, perhaps by accident. He was behind the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+man at the wheel, behind the spot where Aaron
+Burnham stood. He was standing almost
+against the after rail, in the narrow corridor
+that runs fore and aft through the after
+house....
+</p>
+<p>The pistols were in his belt, and the two
+rifles leaned on the rail at his side. Mark himself
+was standing at ease, his arms relaxed, his
+hands resting lightly on his hips and his feet
+apart. He swayed to the movement of the
+ship, balancing with the unconscious ease of
+long custom.
+</p>
+<p>Joel went toward him, not slowly, yet without
+haste. He passed old Aaron with no word,
+passed the wheelman, and faced his brother.
+They were scarce two feet apart when he
+stopped; and there were no others near enough
+to hear, above the slashing of the seas and the
+whistle of the wind, his low words.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p>
+<p>He said: &#8220;Mark, you&#8217;ve made a mistake. A
+bad mistake. In&mdash;starting this mutiny.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark smiled slowly. &#8220;That&#8217;s a hard word,
+Joel. It&#8217;s in my mind that if this is mutiny,
+it&#8217;s a very peaceful model.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nevertheless, it is just that,&#8221; said Joel.
+&#8220;It is that, and it is also a mistake. And&mdash;you
+are wise man enough to see this. There
+is still time to remedy the thing. It can be forgotten.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark chuckled. &#8220;If that is true, you&#8217;ve a
+most convenient memory, Joel.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s cheeks flushed slowly, and he answered:
+&#8220;I am anxious to forget&mdash;whatever
+shames the House of Shore.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark threw back his head and laughed aloud.
+&#8220;Bless you, boy,&#8221; he exclaimed. &#8220;&#8217;Tis no
+shame to you to have fallen victim to our
+numbers.&#8221; But there was a heat in his tones
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
+that told Joel he was shaken. And Joel insisted
+steadily:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was not my own shame I feared.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mine, then?&#8221; Mark challenged.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aye,&#8221; said Joel. &#8220;Yours.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark bent toward him with a mocking flare
+of anger in his eyes; and he said harshly:
+&#8220;You&#8217;ve spoken too much for a small man. Be
+silent. And go below.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel waited for an instant; then his shoulders
+stirred as though he chose a hard course,
+and he held out his hand and said quietly: &#8220;Give
+me the guns, Mark.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark stared at him; and he laughed aloud.
+&#8220;You&#8217;re immense, boy,&#8221; he applauded. &#8220;The
+cool nerve of you....&#8221; His eyes warmed
+with frank admiration. &#8220;Joel, hark to this,&#8221;
+he cried, and jerked his head toward the captive
+Finch. &#8220;You&#8217;ve ripped the innards out of that
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+mate of mine. I&#8217;ll give you the job. You&#8217;re
+mate of the <i>Nathan Ross</i> and I&#8217;m proud to
+have you....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am captain of the <i>Nathan Ross</i>,&#8221; said
+Joel. &#8220;And you are my brother, and a&mdash;mutineer.
+Give me the guns.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark threw up his hand angrily. &#8220;You&#8217;ll
+not hear reason. Then&mdash;go below, and stay
+there. You....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There are few men who can stand flat-footed
+and still hit a crushing blow; but Joel did just
+this. When Mark began to speak, Joel&#8217;s hands
+had been hanging limply at his sides. On
+Mark&#8217;s last word, Joel&#8217;s right hand whipped up
+as smoothly as a whip snaps; and it smacked on
+Mark&#8217;s lean jaw with much the sound a whip
+makes. It struck just behind the point of the
+jaw, on the left hand side; and Mark&#8217;s head
+jerked back, and his knees sagged, and he tottered
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
+weakly forward into Joel&#8217;s very arms.
+</p>
+<p>Joel&#8217;s hands were at the other&#8217;s belt, even as
+Mark fell. He brought out the revolvers, then
+let Mark slip down to the deck; and he stepped
+over the twitching body of his brother, and
+caught up the two rifles, and dropped them,
+with the revolvers, over the after rail.
+</p>
+<p>Mark&#8217;s splendid body had already begun to
+recover from the blow; he was struggling to sit
+up, and he saw what Joel did, and cried aloud:
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t be a fool, boy. Keep them....
+Hell!&#8221; For the weapons were gone. Joel
+turned, and looked down at him; and he said
+quietly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;While I can help it, there&#8217;ll be no blood shed
+on my ship.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Mark swept an arm toward the waist of the
+ship, and Joel looked and saw a growing knot
+of angry men there. &#8220;See them, do you?&#8221;
+Mark demanded. &#8220;They&#8217;re drunk for blood.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+It&#8217;s out of your hands, Joel. You&#8217;ve thrown
+your ace away. Now, boy&mdash;what will you
+do?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The men began to surge aft, along the deck.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+<h2>XVII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>THE story of that battle upon the tumbling
+decks of the <i>Nathan Ross</i> was to
+be told and re-told at many a gam upon the
+whaling grounds. It was such a story as strong
+men love; a story of overwhelming odds, of
+epic combat, of splendid death where blood ran
+hot and strong....
+</p>
+<p>There were a full score of men in the group
+that came aft toward Joel. And as they came,
+others, running from the fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le and dropping
+from the rigging, joined them. Every man
+was drunk with the vision of wealth that he had
+built upon Mark Shore&#8217;s story. The thing had
+grown and grown in the telling; it had fattened
+on the greed native in the men; and it was a
+monstrous thing now, and one that would not be
+denied.... The men, as they moved aft,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+made grumbling sounds with their half-caught
+breath; and these sounds blended into a roaring
+growl like the growl of a beast.
+</p>
+<p>To face these men stood Joel. For an instant,
+he was alone. Then, without word, old
+Aaron took his stand beside his captain. Aaron
+held gripped in both hands an adze. Its edge
+was sharp enough to slice hard wood like
+cheese.... And at Joel&#8217;s other side, the cook.
+A round man, with greasy traces of his craft
+upon his countenance. He carried a heavy
+cleaver. There is an ancient feud between galley
+and fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le; and the men greeting the
+cook&#8217;s coming with a hungry cry of delight....
+</p>
+<p>Joel glanced at these new allies, and saw
+their weapons. He took the adze from Aaron,
+the cleaver from the other; and he turned and
+hurled them behind him, over the rail. And in
+the moment&#8217;s silence that followed on this
+action, he called to the men:
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Go back to your places.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They growled at him; they were wordless,
+but they knew the thing they desired. The
+cook complained at Joel&#8217;s elbow: &#8220;I could use
+that cleaver.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll not have blood spilled,&#8221; Joel told him.
+&#8220;If there&#8217;s fighting, it will be with fists....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And Mark touched Joel lightly on the shoulder,
+and took his place beside him. He was
+smiling, a twisted smile above the swollen
+lump upon his jaw. He said lightly: &#8220;If it&#8217;s
+fists, Joel&mdash;I think I&#8217;m safest to fight beside
+you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel looked up at him with a swift glance,
+and he brushed his hand across his eyes, and
+nodded. &#8220;I counted on that, Mark&mdash;in the
+last, long run,&#8221; he said. Mark gripped his
+arm and pressed it; and in that moment the
+long, unspoken enmity between the brothers
+died forever. They faced the men....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p>
+<p>One howled like a wolf: &#8220;He&#8217;s done us.
+Done us in.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And another: &#8220;They&#8217;re going to hog it.
+Them two....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The little sea of scowling, twisting faces
+moved, it surged forward.... The men
+charged, more than a score, to overwhelm the
+four.
+</p>
+<p>In the moment before, Joel had marked
+young Dick Morrell, at one side, twisted
+with indecision; and in the instant when
+the men moved, he called: &#8220;With us, Mr.
+Morrell.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>It was command, not question; and the boy
+answered with a shout and a blow.... On the
+flank of the men, he swept toward them. And
+Joel&#8217;s harpooner, and one of Asa Worthen&#8217;s
+old men formed a triumvirate that fought
+there....
+</p>
+<p>They were thus seven against a score. But
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+they were seven good men. And the score
+were a mob....
+</p>
+<p>It was fists, at the first, as Joel had sworn.
+The first, charging line broke upon them; and
+old Aaron was swept back, fighting like a cat,
+and crushed and bruised and left helpless in an
+instant. The fat cook dodged into his galley,
+and snatched a knife and held the door there,
+prodding the flanks of those who swirled past
+his stronghold. Joel dropped the first man
+who came to him; and likewise Mark. But
+another twined &#8217;round Joel&#8217;s legs, and he could
+not kick them free, and there was no time to
+stoop and tear the man away.
+</p>
+<p>He and Mark kept back to back for a moment;
+but Mark was not a defensive fighter.
+He could not stand still and wait attack; and
+when his second man fell, he leaped the twisting
+body and charged into the clump of them. His
+black hair tossed, his eye was flaming; and his
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+long arms worked like pistons and like flails.
+He became the center of a group that writhed
+and dissolved, and formed again. His head
+rose above them all.
+</p>
+<p>The man who gripped Joel&#8217;s legs, freed one
+hand and began to beat at Joel&#8217;s body from below.
+Joel could not endure the blows; he
+bent, and took a rain of buffets on his head
+and shoulders while he caught the attacker by
+the throat, and lifted him up and flung him
+away. He staggered free, set his back against
+the galley wall; and when he shifted to avoid
+another attack, he found his place in the galley
+door. The fat cook crouched behind him, and
+Joel heard him shout: &#8220;I&#8217;ll watch your legs,
+Cap&#8217;n. Give &#8217;em the iron, sir. Give &#8217;em th&#8217;
+iron.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Once Joel, looking down, saw the cook&#8217;s
+knife play like a flame between his knees....
+None would seek to pin him there.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p>
+<p>The black harpooner fought his way across
+the deck to Joel&#8217;s side. He left a trail of
+twisting bodies behind him. And he was grinning
+with a huge delight. &#8220;Now, sar, we&#8217;ll do
+&#8217;em, sar,&#8221; he screamed. The sweat poured
+down his black cheeks; and his mouth was cut
+and bleeding. His shirt was torn away from
+one shoulder and arm....
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good man,&#8221; said Joel, between his panting
+blows. &#8220;Good man!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Across the deck, one who had run forward
+for a handspike swept it down on young Dick
+Morrel&#8217;s brown head. Morrell dodged, but
+the blow cracked his shoulder and swept him
+to the deck. The man who had fought beside
+him spraddled the prostrate body, and jerked
+an iron from the boat on the davits at his back
+and held it like a lance, to keep all men at a
+distance. A sheath knife sped, and twisted in
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
+the air, and struck him butt first above the eye,
+so that he fell limply and lay still....
+</p>
+<p>Mark Shore had been forced against the rail
+near where Jim Finch was pinned. Big Finch
+was howling and weeping with fright; and a
+little man of the crew with a rat&#8217;s mean soul
+who hated Finch had found his hour. He was
+leaping about the mate, lashing him mercilessly
+with a heavy end of rope; and Finch screamed
+and twisted beneath the blows.
+</p>
+<p>So swiftly had the tumult of the battle arisen
+that all these things had come to pass before
+the harpooners asleep in the steerage could wake
+and reach the deck. When they climbed the
+ladder, and looked about them, they saw Morrell
+and his ally prostrate at one side, Joel and
+the cook holding the galley door against a half
+dozen men; and big Mark&#8217;s towering head
+amidst a knot of half a dozen more. And one
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+of the harpooners backed away toward the waist
+of the ship, watchful and wary, taking no part
+in the affair.
+</p>
+<p>But the other ... He was a Cape Verder,
+black blood crossed with Spanish; and Mark
+Shore had tied him to a davit, once upon a
+time, and lashed him till he bled, for faults
+committed. He saw Mark now, and his eyes
+shone greedily.
+</p>
+<p>This man crouched, and crossed to a boat&mdash;his
+own&mdash;and chose his own harpoon. He
+twisted off the wooden sheath that covered the
+point, and flung it across the deck; and he poised
+the heavy iron in his hands, and started slowly
+toward Mark, moving on tiptoe, lightly as a
+cat.
+</p>
+<p>Mark saw him coming; and the big man
+shouted joyfully: &#8220;Why, Silva! Come,
+you....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He flung aside the men encircling him. One
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>
+among them held the handspike with which he
+had struck down Morrell; and Mark smote this
+man in the body, and when he doubled,
+wrenched the great club from his hands. He
+swung this, leaped to meet the harpooner.
+</p>
+<p>They came together in mid-deck. The
+great handspike whistled through the air, and
+down. An egg-shell crunched beneath a heel....
+Silva dropped.
+</p>
+<p>Mark stood for an instant above him; and in
+that instant, every man saw the harpoon which
+Silva had driven home. Its heavy shaft hung,
+dragging on the deck; it hung from Mark&#8217;s
+breast, high in the right shoulder; and the point
+stood out six inches behind his shoulder blade.
+It seemed to drag at him; he bent slowly beneath
+its weight, and drooped, and lay at last
+across the body of the man whose skull the
+handspike had crushed.
+</p>
+<p>There were, at that moment, about a dozen
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+of the men still on their feet; but in the instant
+of their paralyzed dismay, two things struck
+them; two furies ... Dick Morrell, tottering
+on unsteady feet, brandishing a razor-tipped
+lance full ten feet long. He came upon the
+men from the flank, shouting; and Joel, when
+he saw his brother fall, left his shelter in the
+galley door and swept upon them. The fat
+cook, with the knife, fought nobly at his side.
+</p>
+<p>The men broke; they fled headlong, forward;
+and Joel and Morrell and the cook pursued
+them, through the waist, past the trypots,
+till they tumbled down the fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le scuttle and
+huddled in their bunks and howled....
+</p>
+<p>A dozen limp bodies sprawled upon the deck,
+bodies of moaning men with heads that would
+ache and pound for days.... Joel left Morrell
+to guard the fo&#8217;c&#8217;s&#8217;le, and went back among
+them, going swiftly from man to man....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p>
+<p>Silva was dead. The others would not die&mdash;save
+only Mark. The iron had pierced his
+chest, had ripped a lung....
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+<h2>XVIII</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>He died that night, smiling to the last.
+He was able to speak, now and then,
+before the end; and Joel and Priss were near
+him, at his side, soothing him, listening....
+</p>
+<p>He asked Joel, once: &#8220;Shall I tell you&mdash;where&mdash;pearls...&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel shook his head. &#8220;I do not want them,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;They have enough blood to turn
+them crimson. Let them lie.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And Mark smiled, and nodded faintly.
+&#8220;Right, boy. Let them lie....&#8221; And his
+eyes shone up at them; and he whispered presently:
+&#8220;That was&mdash;a fight to tell about,
+Joel....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>In those hours beside Mark, Priss completed
+the transition from girl to woman. She was
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span>
+very sober, and quiet; but she did not weep, and
+she answered Mark&#8217;s smiles. And Mark,
+watching her, seemed to remember something,
+toward the last. Joel saw his eyes beckon; and
+he bent above his brother, and Mark whispered
+weakly:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Treasure&mdash;Priss, Joel. She&#8217;s&mdash;worth all....
+Kissed her, but she fought me....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Joel gripped his brother&#8217;s hand. &#8220;I knew
+there was no&mdash;harm in you&mdash;or in her,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t trouble, Mark....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>When old Aaron had stitched the canvas
+shroud, they laid Mark on the cutting stage;
+and Joel read over him from the Book, while
+the men stood silent by. Chastened men, heads
+bandaged, arms in slings ... Big Jim Finch
+at one side, shamed of face. Varde, sullen as
+ever, but with hopelessness writ large upon him.
+Morrell, and old Hooper....
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p>
+<p>Joel finished, and he closed the Book.
+&#8220;Unto the deep....&#8221; The cutting stage
+tilted, and the wave leaped and caught its burden
+and bore it softly down.... The sun was
+shining, the sea danced, the wind was warm on
+fair Priscilla&#8217;s cheek....
+</p>
+<p>And as though, the brief, dramatic chapter
+being ended, another must at once begin, the
+masthead man presently called down to Joel the
+long, droning hail:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah-h-h-h! Blow-w-w-w-w!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And he flung his arm toward where a misty
+spout sparkled in the sun a mile or two
+away. Minutes later, the boats took water;
+and the <i>Nathan Ross</i> was about her business
+again.
+</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Joel wrote in the log that night, with Priscilla
+beside him, her fingers in his hair. Priscilla
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
+had been very humble, till Joel took her
+in his arms and comforted her....
+</p>
+<p>He set down the ship&#8217;s position; he recorded
+their capture, that day, of a great bull cachalot;
+and then:
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;... This day Mark Shore was buried at
+sea. He died late last night, from wounds received
+when he fought valiantly to put down
+the mutiny of the crew. Fourth brother of the
+House of Shore....&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And below, the ancient and enduring epitaph:
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;All the brothers were valiant.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Priscilla, reading over his shoulder, pointed
+to this line and whispered sorrowfully: &#8220;But I&mdash;called
+you coward, Joel.&#8221; He looked up at
+her, and smiled a little. &#8220;I know better now,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;So&mdash;give me the pen ... And
+close your eyes....&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></p>
+<p>He heard the scratch of steel on paper; and
+when he opened his eyes again he saw that Priscilla
+had underscored, with three deep strokes,
+the first word of that honorable line.
+</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:2em;'>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 25885-h.txt or 25885-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/8/25885">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/8/8/25885</a></p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, All the Brothers Were Valiant, by Ben Ames
+Williams
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: All the Brothers Were Valiant
+
+
+Author: Ben Ames Williams
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 23, 2008  [eBook #25885]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+The MacMillan Company
+
+New York . Boston . Chicago . Dallas
+Atlanta . San Francisco
+
+MacMillan & Co., Limited
+
+London . Bombay . Calcutta
+Melbourne
+
+The MacMillan Co. of Canada, Ltd.
+Toronto
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+by
+
+BEN AMES WILLIAMS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+The MacMillan Company
+1919
+
+All rights reserved
+
+Copyright, 1919, by
+The Ridgway Company
+
+Copyright, 1919
+by The MacMillan Company
+
+Set up and electrotyped. Published, May, 1919
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT
+
+I
+
+
+The fine old house stood on Jumping Tom Hill, above the town. It had
+stood there before there was a town, when only a cabin or two fringed the
+woods below, nearer the shore. The weather boarding had been brought in
+ships from England, ready sawed; likewise the bricks of the chimney.
+Indians used to come to the house in the cold of winter, begging shelter.
+Given blankets, and food, and drink, they slept upon the kitchen floor;
+and when Joel Shore's great-great-grandfather came down in the morning,
+he found Indians and blankets gone together. Sometimes the Indians came
+back with a venison haunch, or a bear steak ... sometimes not at all.
+
+The house had, now, the air of disuse which old New England houses often
+have. It was in perfect repair; its paint was white, and its shutters
+hung squarely at the windows. But the grass was uncut in the yard, and
+the lack of a veranda, and the tight-closed doors and windows, made the
+house seem lifeless and lacking the savor of human presence. There was a
+white-painted picket fence around the yard; and a rambler rose draped
+these pickets. The buds on the rose were bursting into crimson flower.
+
+The house was four-square, plain, and without any ornamentation. It was
+built about a great, square chimney that was like a spine. There were six
+flues in this chimney, and a pot atop each flue. These little chimney
+pots breaking the severe outlines of the house, gave the only suggestion
+of lightness or frivolity about it. They were like the heads of impish
+children, peeping over a fence....
+
+Across the front of this house, on the second floor, ran a single, long
+room like a corridor. Its windows looked down, across the town, to the
+Harbor. A glass hung in brackets on the wall; there was a hog-yoke in its
+case upon a little table, and a ship's chronometer, and a compass....
+There were charts in a tin tube upon the wall, and one that showed the
+Harbor and the channel to the sea hung between the middle windows. In the
+north corner, a harpoon, and two lances, and a boat spade leaned. Their
+blades were covered with wooden sheaths, painted gray. A fifteen-foot
+jawbone, cleaned and polished and with every curving tooth in place, hung
+upon the rear wall and gleamed like old and yellow ivory. The chair at
+the table was fashioned of whalebone; and on a bracket above the table
+rested the model of a whaling ship, not more than eighteen inches long,
+fashioned of sperm ivory and perfect in every detail. Even the tiny
+harpoons in the boats that hung along the rail were tipped with bits of
+steel....
+
+The windows of this place were tight closed; nevertheless, the room was
+filled with the harsh, strong smell of the sea.
+
+Joel Shore sat in the whalebone chair, at the table, reading a book. The
+book was the Log of the House of Shore. Joel's father had begun it, when
+Joel and his four brothers were ranging from babyhood through youth.... A
+full half of the book was filled with entries in old Matthew Shore's
+small, cramped hand. The last of these entries was very short. It began
+with a date, and it read:
+
+"Wind began light, from the south. This day came into Harbor the bark
+_Winona_, after a cruise of three years, two months, and four days.
+Captain Chase reported that my eldest son, Matthew Shore, was killed by
+the fluke of a right whale, at Christmas Island. The whale yielded
+seventy barrels of oil. Matthew Shore was second mate."
+
+And below, upon a single line, like an epitaph, the words:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+Two days after, the old man sickened; and three weeks later, he died. He
+had set great store by big Matt....
+
+Joel, turning the leaves of the Log, and scanning their brief entries,
+came presently to this--written in the hand of his brother John:
+
+"Wind easterly. This day the _Betty_ was reported lost on the Japan
+grounds, with all hands save the boy and the cook. Noah Shore was third
+mate. Day ended as it began."
+
+And below, again, that single line:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+There followed many pages filled with reports of rich cruises, when ships
+came home with bursting casks, and the brothers of the House of Shore
+played the parts of men. The entries were now in the hand of one, now of
+another; John and Mark and Joel.... Joel read phrases here and there....
+
+"This day the _Martin Wilkes_ returned ... two years, eleven months and
+twenty-two days ... died on the cruise, and first mate John Shore became
+captain. Day ended as it began."
+
+And, a page or two further on:
+
+"... _Martin Wilkes_ ... two years, two months, four days ... tubs on
+deck filled with oil, for which there was no more room in the casks ...
+Captain John Shore."
+
+Mark Shore's first entry in the Log stood out from the others; for Mark's
+hand was bold, and strong, and the letters sprawled blackly along the
+lines. Furthermore, Mark used the personal pronoun, while the other
+brothers wrote always in the third person. Mark had written:
+
+"This day, I, Mark Shore, at the age of twenty-seven, was given command
+of the whaling bark _Nathan Ross_."
+
+Joel read this sentence thrice. There was a bold pride in it, and a
+strong and reckless note which seemed to bring his brother before his
+very eyes. Mark had always been so, swift of tongue, and strong, and
+sure. Joel turned another page, came to where Mark had written:
+
+"This day I returned from my first cruise with full casks in two years,
+seven months, fifteen days. I found the _Martin Wilkes_ in the dock. They
+report Captain John Shore lost at Vau Vau in an effort to save the ship's
+boy, who had fallen overboard. The boy was also lost."
+
+And, below, in bold and defiant letters:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+There were two more pages of entries, in Mark's hand or in Joel's, before
+the end. When he came to the fresh page, Joel dipped his pen, and huddled
+his broad shoulders over the book, and slowly wrote that which had to be
+written.
+
+"Wind northeast, light," he began, according to the ancient form of the
+sea, which makes the state of wind and weather of first and foremost
+import. "Wind northeast, light. This day the _Martin Wilkes_ finished a
+three year cruise. Found in port the _Nathan Ross_. She reports that
+Captain Mark Shore left the ship when she watered at the Gilbert Islands.
+He did not return, and could not be found. They searched three weeks.
+They encountered hostile islanders. No trace of Mark Shore."
+
+When he had written thus far, he read the record to himself, his lips
+moving; then he sat for a space with frowning brows, thinking, thinking,
+wondering if there were a chance....
+
+But in the end he cast the hope aside. If Mark lived, they would have
+found him, would surely have found him....
+
+And so Joel wrote the ancient line:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+And below, as an afterthought, he added: "Joel Shore became first mate of
+the _Martin Wilkes_ on her cruise."
+
+He blotted this line, and closed the book, and put it away. Then he went
+to the windows that looked down upon the Harbor, and stood there for a
+long time. His face was serene, but his eyes were faintly troubled. He
+did not see the things that lay outspread below him.
+
+Yet they were worth seeing. The town was old, and it had the fragrance of
+age about it.
+
+Below Joel, on the hill's slopes, among the trees, stood the square white
+houses of the town folk. Beyond them, the white spire of the church with
+its weather vane atop. Joel marked that the wind was still northeast. The
+vane swung fitfully in the light air. He could see the masts and yards of
+the ships along the waterfront. The yards of the _Nathan Ross_ were
+canted in mournful tribute to his brother. At the pier end beside her, he
+marked the ranks of casks, brown with sweating oil. Beyond, the smooth
+water ruffled in the wind, and dark ripple-shadows moved across its
+surface with each breeze. There were gulls in the air, and on the water.
+Such stillness lay upon the sleepy town that if his windows had been
+open, he might have heard the harsh cries of the birds. A man was
+sculling shoreward from a fishing schooner that lay at anchor off the
+docks; and a whaleboat crawled like a spider across the harbor toward
+Fairhaven on the other side.
+
+On a flag staff above a big building near the water, a half-masted flag
+hung idly in the faintly stirring air. It hung there, he knew, for his
+brother's sake. He watched it thoughtfully, wondering.... There had been
+such an abounding insolence of life in big Mark Shore.... It was hard to
+believe that he was surely dead.
+
+A woman passed along the street below the house, and looked up and saw
+him at the window. He did not see her. Two boys crawled along the white
+picket fence, and pricked their fingers as they broke half-open clusters
+from the rambler without molestation. A gray squirrel, when the boys had
+gone, came down from an elm across the street and sprinted desperately to
+the foot of the great oak below the house. When it was safe in the oak's
+upper branches, it scolded derisively at the imaginary terrors it had
+escaped. A blue jay, with ruffled feathers--a huge, blue ball in the
+air--rocketed across from the elm, and established himself near the
+squirrel, and they swore at each other like coachmen. The squirrel swore
+from temper and disposition; the jay from malice and derision. The bird
+seemed to have the better of the argument, for the squirrel suddenly fell
+silent and departed, his emotions revealing themselves only in the angry
+flicks of his tail. When he was gone, the jay began to investigate a knot
+in a limb of the oak. The bird climbed around this knot with slow motions
+curiously like those of a parrot.
+
+A half-grown boy came up the street and turned in at the gate. Joel
+remained where he was until the boy manipulated the knocker on the door;
+then he went down and opened. He knew the boy; Peter How. Peter was thin
+and freckled and nervous; and he was inclined to stammer. When Joel
+opened the door, Peter was at first unable to speak. He stood on the
+step, jerking his chin upward and forward as though his collar irked him.
+Joel smiled slowly.
+
+"Come in, Peter," he said.
+
+Peter jerked his chin, jerked his whole head furiously. "C--C--C--" he
+said. "Asa W-W-Worthen wants to s-s-see you."
+
+Asa Worthen was the owner of the _Martin Wilkes_, and of the _Nathan
+Ross_. Joel nodded gently.
+
+"Thank you, Peter," he told the boy. "I'll get my hat and come."
+
+Peter jerked his head. He seemed to be choking. "He's a-a-a-a-at his
+office," he blurted.
+
+Joel had found his hat. He closed the door of the house behind him, and
+he and Peter went down the shady street together.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Asa Worthen was a small, lean, strong old man, immensely voluble. He must
+have been well over sixty years old; and he had grown rich by harvesting
+the living treasures of the sea. At thirty-four, he owned his first ship.
+She was old, and cranky, and no more seaworthy than a log; but she earned
+him more than four hundred thousand dollars, net, before he beached her
+on the sand below the town. She lay there still, her upper parts strong
+and well preserved. But her bottom was gone, and she was slowly rotting
+into the sand.
+
+Asa himself had captained this old craft, until she had served her
+appointed time; but when she went to the sand flats, he, too, stayed
+ashore, to watch his ships come in. When they were in harbor, they
+berthed in his own dock; and from his office at the shoreward end of the
+pier, he could look down upon their decks, and watch the casks come out,
+so fat with oil, and the stores go aboard for each cruise. The cries of
+the men and the wheeling gulls, the rattle of the blocks and gear, and
+the rich smell of the oil came up to him.... The _Nathan Ross_ was
+loading now; and when Joel climbed the office stairs, he found the old
+man at the window watching them sling great shooks of staves into her
+hold, and fidgeting at the lubberliness of the men who did the work.
+
+Asa's office was worth seeing; a strange, huge room, windowed on three
+sides; against one wall, a whaleboat with all her gear in place; in a
+corner, the twisted jaw of a sixty-barrel bull, killed in the Seychelles;
+and Asa Worthen's big desk, with a six-foot model of his old ship atop
+it, between the forward windows. Beside the desk stood that contrivance
+known to the whalemen as a "woman's tub"; a cask, sawed chair-fashion,
+with a cross board for seat, and ropes so rigged that the whole might be
+easily and safely swung from ship to small boat or back again. Asa had
+taken his wife along on more than one of his early voyages ... before she
+died....
+
+At Joel's step, the little man swung awkwardly away from the window,
+toward the door. Many years ago, a racing whale line had snarled his left
+leg and whipped away a gout of muscle; and this leg was now shorter than
+its fellow, so that Asa walked with a pegging limp. He hitched across the
+big room, and took Joel's arm, and led the young man to the desk.
+
+"Sit down, Joel. Sit down," he said briskly. "I've words to say to you,
+my son. Sit down." Asa was smoking; and Joel took a twist of leaf from
+his pocket, and cut three slices, and crumbled them and stuffed them into
+the bowl of his black pipe. Asa watched the process, and he watched Joel,
+puffing without comment. There was something furtive in the scrutiny of
+the young man, but Joel did not mark it. When the pipe was ready, Asa
+passed across a match, and Joel struck it, and puffed slowly....
+
+Asa began, abruptly, what he had to say. "Joel, the _Nathan Ross_ will be
+ready for sea in five days. She's stout, her timbers are good and her
+tackle is strong. She's a lucky ship. The oil swims after her across the
+broad sea, and begs to be taken. She's my pet ship, Joel, as you know;
+and she's uncommon well fitted. Mark had her. Now I want you to take
+her."
+
+Joel's calm eyes had met the other's while Asa was speaking; and Asa had
+shifted to avoid the encounter. But Joel's heart was pounding so, at the
+words of the older man, that he took no heed. He listened, and he waited
+thoughtfully until he was sure of what he wished to say. Then he asked
+quietly:
+
+"Is not James Finch the mate of her? Did he not fetch her home?"
+
+"Aye," said Asa impatiently. "He brought her home--in the top scurry of
+haste. There was no need of such haste; for he had still casks unfilled,
+and there was sparm all about him where he lay. He should have filled
+those last casks. 'Tis in them the profit lies." He shook his head
+sorrowfully. "No, Jim Finch will not do. He is a good man--under another
+man. But he has not the spine that stands alone. When Mark Shore was gone
+... Jim had no thought but to throw the try works overside and scurry
+hitherward as though he feared to be out upon the seas alone."
+
+Joel puffed thrice at his pipe. Then: "You said this morning that for
+three weeks he hunted Mark, up and down the Gilbert Islands."
+
+Asa's little eyes whipped toward Joel, and away again. "Oh, aye," he said
+harshly. "Three weeks he hunted, when one was plenty. If Mark Shore
+lived, and wished to find his ship again, he'd have found her in a week.
+If he were dead ... there was no need of the time wasted."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Joel quietly, "James Finch has my thanks for his
+search; and I'm no mind to do him a harm, or to step into his shoes."
+
+Asa smiled grimly. "Ye're over considerate," he said. "Jim Finch was your
+brother's man, and a very loyal one. As long as he is another's man, he
+is content. But he has no want to be his own master and the master of a
+ship, and of men. I've askit him."
+
+Joel puffed hard at his pipe; and after a little he asked: "Sir, what
+think you it was that came to Mark?"
+
+Asa looked at him sharply, then away; and his accustomed volubility fell
+away from him. He lifted his hands. "Ask James Finch. I've no way to
+tell," he said curtly.
+
+"Have you no opinion?" Joel insisted.
+
+The ship owner tilted his head, set finger tip to finger tip, assumed the
+air of one who delivers judgment. "Islanders, 'tis like," he said.
+"There's a many there." He looked sidewise at Joel, looked away. Joel was
+nodding.
+
+"Yes, many thereabouts," he agreed. "But there would have been tracks.
+Were there none?"
+
+"Mark left his boat's crew," said Asa. "Walked away along the shore. That
+was all."
+
+"No tracks?"
+
+"They saw where he'd left the sand." The ship owner shifted in his chair.
+"Seems like I'd heard you and Mark wa'n't too good friends, Joel. Your
+a'mighty worked up."
+
+Joel looked at the little man with bleak eyes. "He was my brother."
+
+"I've heard tell he forgot you was his, sometimes."
+
+Joel paid no heed. "You think it was Islanders?"
+
+Asa kicked the corner of his desk, watching his foot. "What else was
+there?"
+
+"I've nothing in my mind," said Joel, and shook his head. "But it sticks
+in me that Mark was no man to die easy. There was a full measure of life
+in him."
+
+Asa got up awkwardly, waved his hand. "We're off the course, Joel. What
+about the _Nathan Ross_? Ready for sea, come Tuesday. I'm not one to
+press her on any man, unwilling. Say your say, man. Do you take her? Or
+no?"
+
+Joel drew slowly once more upon his pipe. "If I take her," he said,
+"we'll work the Gilberts first of all, and try once again for a sign of
+my brother Mark."
+
+Asa jerked his head. "So you pick up any oil that comes your way, I've no
+objection," he agreed. "Matter of fact, that's the best thing to do. Mark
+may yet live." His eyes snapped up to the others. "You take her, then?"
+
+Joel nodded slowly. "I take her, sir," he said. "With thanks to you."
+
+Asa banged his hand jubilantly on his desk. "That's done. Now ..."
+
+The two men sat down at Asa's big desk again; and for an hour they were
+busy with matters that concerned the coming cruise. When a whaleship goes
+to sea, she goes for a three-year cruise; and save only the items of food
+and water, she carries with her everything she will need for that whole
+time, with an ample allowance to spare. She is a department store of the
+seas; for she works with iron and wood, with steel and bone, with fire
+and water and rope and sail. All these things she must have, and many
+more. And the lists of a whaleship's stores are long and long, and take
+much checking. When they had considered these matters, Asa sent out to
+the pierhead to summon Jim Finch, and told the man that Joel would have
+the ship. Joel said to Finch slowly: "I've no mind to fight a grudge
+aboard my ship, sir. If you blame me for stepping into your shoes, Mr.
+Worthen will give you another berth."
+
+Finch shook his head. He was a big, laughing man with soft, fat cheeks.
+"No, sir," he declared. "It's yours, and welcome. Your brother was a man;
+and you've the look of another, sir."
+
+Joel frowned. He was uncomfortable; he had an angry feeling that Finch
+was too amiable. But he said no more, and Finch went back to the ship,
+and Asa and Joel continued with their task.
+
+While they worked, the afternoon sun drifted down the western sky till
+its level rays were flame lances laid across the harbor. A fishing craft
+at anchor in mid-stream hoisted her sails with a creak and rattle of
+blocks and drifted down the channel with the tide. The wheeling gulls
+dropped, one by one, to the water; or they lurched off to some quiet cove
+to spend the night. Their harsh cries came less frequently, were less
+persistent. The wind had swung around, and it was fetching now from the
+water a cold and salty chill. There was a smell of cooking in the air,
+and the smoke from the _Nathan Ross_' galley, and the cool smell of the
+sea mingled with the strong odor of the oil in the casks ranked at the
+end of the pier.
+
+The sun had touched the horizon when Joel at last rose to go. Asa got up
+with him, dropped a hand on the young man's shoulder. They passed the
+contrivance called a "woman's tub"; and Asa, at sight of it, seemed to be
+minded of something. He stopped, and checked Joel, and with eyes
+twinkling, pointed to the tub. "Will you be wishful to take that on the
+cruise, Joel?" he asked, and looked up sidewise at the younger man, and
+chuckled.
+
+Joel's brown cheeks were covered with slow fire; but his voice was steady
+enough when he replied. "It's a kind offer, sir," he said. "I know well
+what store you set by that tub."
+
+"Will you be wanting it?" Asa still insisted.
+
+"I'll see," said Joel quietly. "I will see."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+The brothers of the House of Shore had been, on the whole, slow to take
+to themselves wives. Matt had never married, nor Noah, nor Mark. John had
+a wife for the weeks he was at home before his last cruise; but he did
+not take her with him on that voyage, and there was no John Shore to
+carry on the name.
+
+John Shore's widow was called Rachel. She had been Rachel Holt; and her
+sister's name was Priscilla. Rachel was one of those women who suggest
+slumbering fires; she was slow of speech, and quiet, and calm.... But
+John Shore and Mark had both loved her; and when she married John, Mark
+laughed a hard and reckless laugh that made the woman afraid. John and
+Mark never spoke, one to another, after that marriage.
+
+Rachel's sister, Priscilla, was a gay and careless child. She was six
+years younger than Joel, and she had acquired in babyhood the habit of
+thinking Joel the most wonderful created thing. Their yards adjoined; and
+she was the baby of her family, and he of his. Thus the big boy and the
+little girl had always been comrades and allies against the world. Before
+Joel first went to sea, as ship's boy, the two had decided they would
+some day be married....
+
+Joel went to supper that night at Priscilla's home. He was alone in his
+own house; and Mrs. Holt was a person with a mother's heart. Rachel lived
+at home. She gave Joel quiet welcome at the door, before Priscilla in the
+kitchen heard his voice and came flying to overwhelm him. She had been
+making popovers, and there was flour on her fingers--and on Joel's best
+black coat, when she was done with him. Rachel brushed it off, when Priss
+had run back to her oven.
+
+They sat down at table. Mrs. Holt at one end, her husband--he was a big
+man, an old sea captain, and full of yarns as a knitting bag--at the
+other; and Rachel at one side, facing Priss and Joel. Joel's ship had
+come in only that day; the _Nathan Ross_ had been in port for weeks. So
+the whole town knew Mark Shore's story. They spoke of it now, and Joel
+told them what he knew.... Rachel wondered if there was any chance that
+Mark might still be alive. Her father broke in with a story of Mark's
+first cruise, when the boy had saved a man's life by his quickness with
+the hatchet on the racing line. The town was full of such stories; for
+Mark was one of those men about whom legends arise. And now he was
+gone....
+
+Priscilla listened to the talk with the wide eyes of youth, awed by the
+mystery and majesty of tragic things. She remembered Mark as a huge man,
+like a pagan god, in whose eyes she had been only a thin-legged little
+girl who made faces through the fence.... After supper, when the others
+had left them in the parlor together, she said to Joel: "Do you think
+he's dead?" Her voice was a whisper.
+
+"I aim to know," said Joel.
+
+Rachel looked in at the door. "You needn't bother with the dishes,
+Priss," she said. "I'll do them."
+
+Priscilla had forgotten all about that task. She ran contritely toward
+her sister. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rachel. I will, I will do them. Joel and
+I...."
+
+Rachel laughed softly. "I don't mind them. You two stay here."
+
+Priscilla accepted the offer, in the end; but she had no notion of
+staying in the tight-windowed parlor, with its harsh carpet on the floor,
+and its samplers on the walls. She was of the new generation, the
+generation which discovered that the night is beautiful, and not
+unhealthy. "Let's go outside," she said to Joel. "There's a moon. We can
+sit on the bench, under the apple tree...."
+
+They went out, side by side. Joel was not a tall man, but he was inches
+taller than Priscilla. She was tiny; a dainty, sweetly proportioned
+creature, built on fine lines that were strangely out of keeping with the
+stalwart stock from which she sprung. Her hair was darker than Joel's; it
+was a brown so dark that it was almost black. But her eyes were vividly
+blue, and her lips were vividly red, and her cheeks were bright.... She
+slipped her hand through Joel's big arm as they crossed the yard; and
+when they had found the seat, she drew his arm frankly about her
+shoulders. "I'm cold," she said, laughing up at him. "You must keep me
+warm...."
+
+The moon flecked down through the leaves upon her face. There was
+moonlight on her cheek, and on her mouth; but her thick hair and her eyes
+were shadowed and mysterious. Joel saw that her lips were smiling.... She
+drew his head down toward hers.... Joel was flesh and blood; and she
+panted, and gasped, and pushed him away, and smoothed her hair, and
+laughed at him. "I love you to be so strong," she whispered, happily.
+
+He had not told them, at supper, of his promotion. He told Priscilla now;
+and the girl could not sit still beside him. She danced in the path
+before the seat; she perched on his knee, and caught his big shoulders in
+her tiny hands and tried to shake him back and forth in her delight. "You
+don't act a bit excited," she scolded. "You don't act as though you were
+glad, a bit. Aren't you glad, Joe? Aren't you just so proud?..."
+
+"Yes," he told her. "Of course. Yes. Yes, I am glad, and I am proud."
+
+"Oh," she cried, "I could--I could just hug you in two." She tried it,
+tightening her arms about his big neck, clinging to him.... He sat stiff
+and awkward under her caresses, thrilling with a happiness that he did
+not know how to express. He felt uneasy, half embarrassed. Her ecstasy
+continued....
+
+Then, abruptly, it passed. She became practical. Still upon his knee, she
+began to ask questions. When would he sail away? She had heard the
+_Nathan Ross_ was almost ready. When would he come back? When would he be
+rich, so that they might be married? Would it be long?...
+
+Joel found tongue. "We will be married Monday," he said slowly. "We will
+go away--on the _Nathan Ross_--together. I do not want to go alone."
+
+She slipped from his knee, stood before him. "Why, Joel! You're--you're
+just crazy to think of it."
+
+He shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I have thought all about it. It is
+the best thing to do. We will be married Monday; and we will make a
+bigger cabin on the--_Nathan Ross_...." His voice always slowed a little
+as he spoke the name of his first ship. "You will be happy on her," he
+said. "You will like it all.... The sea...."
+
+She returned to his knee, tumbling his hair. "You silly! Men don't
+understand. Why, I couldn't be ready for ever so long. And I wouldn't
+dare go away with you. For so awfully long. I just couldn't...." Her eyes
+misted with thought, and she said quite seriously: "Why, Joel, we might
+find we didn't like each other at all. But we'd be on the ship, with no
+way to get away from it ... for three years. Don't you see?"
+
+Joel said calmly: "That is not so; because we know about--liking each
+other, already. I know how it is with you. It is clothes that you are
+thinking about. Well, you can get them in the stores. And you have many,
+already. You have new dresses whenever I see you...."
+
+She laughed gayly. "But, Joel, you only see me once in three years. Of
+course I have new dresses, then. But I just couldn't...."
+
+She laughed again, a faint uneasiness in her laughter. She left his knee,
+and sat down soberly beside him. She was feeling a little crushed,
+smothered ... as though she were being pushed back against a wall. Joel
+said steadily:
+
+"Mr. Worthen will be glad to know you go with me. And every one will be
+glad for you...."
+
+She burst, abruptly, into tears. She was miserable, she told him. He was
+making her miserable. She hated to be bullied, and he was trying to bully
+her. She hated him. She wouldn't marry him. Never. He could go off on his
+old ship and never come back. That was all. She would not go; and he
+ought not to ask her to, anyway. To prove how much she hated him, she
+nestled against his side, and his arm enfolded her.
+
+Joel had not the outward seeming of a wise man; nevertheless he now said:
+
+"The other girls will all be envying you. To be married so quickly, and
+carried away the very next day...." Her sobs miraculously ceased, and he
+smiled quietly down upon her dark head against his breast. "Every one
+will do things for you.... The whole town.... They will come down to see
+us sail away."
+
+He fell silent, leaving his words for her consideration. She remained
+very quiet against his side for a long time, breathing very softly. He
+thought he could almost read her thoughts....
+
+"It will be," he said, "like a story. Like a romance." And the word
+sounded strangely on his sober lips.
+
+But at the word, the girl sat up quickly, both hands gripping his arm. He
+could see her eyes dancing in the moonlight.... "Oh, Joe," she cried, "it
+would really be just loads of fun. And terribly romantic.... Wonderful!"
+She pressed a hand to her cheek, thinking: "And I could...."
+
+She could, she said, do thus and so....
+
+Joel listened, and he smiled. For he knew that his bride would sail away
+with him.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+In the few days that remained before the _Nathan Ross_ was to sail, there
+was no time for remodeling her cabin to accommodate Priscilla; so that
+was left for the first weeks of the cruise. There were matters enough,
+without it, to occupy those last days. Little Priss was caught up like a
+leaf in the wind; she was whirled this way and that in a pleasant and
+heart-stirring confusion. And through it all, her laughter rang in the
+air like the sound of bells. To Joel, Sunday night, she said: "Oh, Joe
+... it's been an awful rush. But it's been such fun.... And I never was
+so happy in my life."
+
+And Joel smiled, and said quietly: "Yes--with happier times to come."
+
+She looked up at him wistfully. "You'll be good to me, won't you, Joel?"
+He patted her shoulder.
+
+They were married in the big old white church, and every pew was filled.
+Afterwards they all went down to the piers, where Asa Worthen had spread
+long tables and loaded them so that they groaned. Alongside lay the
+_Nathan Ross_, her decks littered with the last confusion of preparation.
+Joel showed Priscilla the lumber for the cabin alterations, ranked along
+the rail beneath the boathouse; and she gripped his arm tight with both
+hands. Afterwards, he took Priscilla up the hill to the great House of
+Shore. Rachel had prepared their wedding supper there....
+
+At a quarter before ten o'clock the next morning, the _Nathan Ross_ went
+out with the tide. When she had cleared the dock and was fairly in the
+stream, Joel gave her in charge of Jim Finch; and he and Priscilla stood
+in the after house, astern, and looked back at the throng upon the pier
+until the individual figures merged into a black mass, pepper-and-salted
+with color where the women stood. They could see the handkerchiefs
+flickering, until a turn of the channel swept them out of sight of the
+town, and they drifted on through the widening mouth of the bay, toward
+the open sea. At dusk that night, there was still land in sight behind
+them and on either side; but when Priscilla came on deck in the morning,
+there was nothing but blue water and laughing waves. And so she was
+homesick, all that day, and laughed not at all till the evening, when the
+moon bathed the ship in silver fire, and the white-caps danced all about
+them.
+
+The _Nathan Ross_ was in no sense a lovely ship. There was about her none
+of the poetry of the seas. She was designed strictly for utility, and for
+hard and dirty toil. Blunt she was of bow and stern, and her widest point
+was just abeam the foremast, so that she had great shoulders that
+buffeted the sea. These shoulders bent inward toward the prow and met in
+what was practically a right angle; and her stern was cut almost straight
+across, with only enough overhang to give the rudder room. Furthermore,
+her masts had no rake. They stood up stiff and straight as sore thumbs;
+and the bowsprit, instead of being something near horizontal, rose toward
+the skies at an angle close to forty-five degrees. This bowsprit made the
+_Nathan Ross_ look as though she had just stubbed her toe. She carried
+four boats at the davits; and two spare craft, bottom up, on the
+boathouse just forward of the mizzenmast. Three of the four at the davits
+were on the starboard side, and since they were each thirty feet long,
+while the ship herself was scarce a hundred and twenty, they gave her a
+sadly cluttered and overloaded appearance. For the rest, she was painted
+black, with a white checkerboarding around the rail; and her sails were
+smeared and smutty with smoke from burning blubber scraps.
+
+Nevertheless, she was a comfortable ship, and a dry one. She rode waves
+that would have swept a vessel cut on prouder lines; and she was
+moderately steady. She was not fast, nor cared to be. An easy five or six
+knots contented her; for the whole ocean was her hunting ground, and
+though there were certain more favored areas, you might meet whales
+anywhere. Give her time, and she would poke that blunt nose of hers right
+'round the world, and come back with a net profit anywhere up to a
+hundred and fifty thousand dollars in her sweating casks.
+
+Priscilla Holt knew all these things, and she respected the _Nathan Ross_
+on their account. But during the first weeks of the cruise, she was too
+much interested in the work on the cabin to consider other matters. Old
+Aaron Burnham, the carpenter, did the work. He was a wiry little man,
+gray and grizzled; and he loved the tools of his craft with a jealous
+love that forbade the laying on of impious hands. Through the long, calm
+days, when the ship snored like a sleep-walker through the empty seas,
+Priscilla would sit on box or bench or floor, and watch Aaron at his
+task, and ask him questions, and listen to the old man's long stories of
+things that had come and gone.
+
+Sometimes she tried to help him; but he would not let her handle an edged
+tool. "Ye'll no have the eye for it," he would say. "Leave it be." Now
+and then he let her try to drive a nail; but as often as not she missed
+the nail head and marred the soft wood, until Aaron lost patience with
+her. "Mark you," he cried, "men will see the scar there, and they'll be
+thinking I did this task with my foot, Ma'am."
+
+And Priscilla would laugh at him, and curl up with her feet tucked under
+her skirts and her chin in her hands, and watch him by the long hour on
+hour.
+
+The task dragged on; it seemed to her endless. For Aaron had other work
+that must be done, and he could give only his spare time to this. Also,
+he was a slow worker, accustomed to take his own time; and when Priscilla
+grew impatient and scolded him, the old man merely sat back on his knees,
+and scratched his head, and tapped thoughtfully with his hammer on the
+floor beside him.
+
+"We-ell, Ma'am," he said, "I do things so, and I do things so; and it
+takes time, that does, Ma'am."
+
+Now and then, through those days, Priscilla's enthusiasm would send her
+skittering up the companion to fetch Joel to see some new wonder--a
+window set in the stern, or a bench completed, or a door hung. And Joel,
+looking far oftener at Priscilla than at the object she wished him to
+consider, would chuckle, and touch her shoulder affectionately, and go
+back to his post.
+
+In the sixth week, the last nail had been driven, and the last lick of
+paint was dry. In the result, Priscilla was as happy as a bride has a
+right to be.
+
+Across the very stern of the ship, with windows looking out upon the
+wake, ran what might have been called a sitting room. It was perhaps
+twenty feet wide and eight feet deep; and its rear wall--formed by the
+overhanging stern--sloped outward toward the ceiling. Against this slope,
+beneath the three windows, a broad, cushioned bench was built, to serve
+as couch or seat. The bench was broken in one place to make room for
+Joel's desk, and the cabinet wherein he kept his records and his
+instruments. Priss had put curtains on the windows; and she had a lily,
+in a pot, at one of them, and a clump of pansies at another. Joel's cabin
+opened off this compartment, on the starboard side; hers was opposite.
+The main cabin, with its folding table built about the thick butt of the
+mizzenmast, had been extended forward to make room for the enlargement of
+this stern apartment; and the mates were quartered off this main cabin.
+The galley and the store rooms were on the main deck, in the after house,
+on either side of the awkward "walking wheel" by which the ship was
+steered; and the cabin companion was just forward of this wheel.
+
+There were aboard the _Nathan Ross_ about thirty men, all told; but the
+most of them were not of Priscilla's world. The foremast hands never came
+aft of the try works, save on tasks assigned; and the secondary
+officers--boat-steerers and the like--slept in the steerage and kept
+forward of the boathouse. Thus the after deck was shared only by
+Priscilla and Joel, the mates, the cook, and old Aaron, who was a man of
+many privileges.
+
+This world, Priscilla ruled. Joel adored her; Jim Finch gave her the
+clumsy homage of a puppy--and was at times just as oppressively amiable.
+Old Aaron talked to her by the hour, while he went about his work. And
+the other mates--Varde, the sullen; and Hooper, who was old and losing
+his grip; and Dick Morrell, who was young and finding his--paid her the
+respect that was her due. Young Morrell--he was not even as old as she
+was--helped her on her first climb to the mast head. He was only a
+boy.... The girl, when the first homesick pangs were past, was happy.
+
+Until the day they killed their whale, a seventy-barrel cachalot cow who
+died as peaceably as a chicken, with only a convulsive flop or two when
+the lances found the life. Priscilla took a single glimpse of the
+shuddering, bloody, oily work of cutting in the carcass, and then she
+fled to her cabin and remained there steadfastly until the long task was
+done. The smoke from the bubbling try pots, and the persistent smell of
+boiling blubber sickened her; and the grime that descended over
+everything appalled her dainty soul. Not until the men had cleaned ship
+did she go on deck again; and even then she scolded Joel for the affair
+as though it were a matter for which he was wholly to blame.
+
+"There just isn't any sense in making so much dirt," she told him. "I've
+had to wash out every one of my curtains; and I can't ever get rid of
+that smell."
+
+Joel chuckled. "Aye, the smell sticks," he agreed. "But you'll be used to
+it soon, Priss. You'll come to like it, I'm thinking. Any case, we'll not
+be rid of it while the cruise is on."
+
+She was so angry that she wanted to cry. "Do you actually mean, Joel
+Shore, that I've got to live with that sickening, hot-oil smell for
+th-three years?"
+
+He nodded slowly. "Yes, Priss. No way out of it. It's part of the work.
+Come another month, and you'll not mind at all."
+
+She said positively: "I may not say anything, but I shall always hate
+that smell."
+
+His eyes twinkled slowly; and she stamped her foot. "If I'd known it was
+going to be like this, I wouldn't have come, Joel. Now don't you laugh at
+me. If there was any way to go back, I'd go. I hate it. I hate it all.
+You ought not to have brought me...."
+
+They were on the broad bench across the stern, in their cabin; and he put
+his big arm about her shoulders and laughed at her till she could do no
+less than laugh back at him. But--she assured herself of this--she was
+angry, just the same. Nevertheless, she laughed....
+
+Joel had put the _Nathan Ross_ on the most direct southward course,
+touching neither Azores nor Cape Verdes. For it was in his mind, as he
+had told Asa Worthen, to make direct for the Gilbert Islands and seek
+some trace of his brother there. That had been his plan before he left
+port; but the plan had become determination after a word with Aaron
+Burnham, one day. Joel, resting in the cabin while old Aaron worked
+there, fell to thinking of his brother, and so asked:
+
+"Aaron, what is your belief about my brother, Mark Shore? Is he dead?"
+
+Aaron was building, that day, the forward partition of the new cabin,
+fitting his boards meticulously, and driving home each nail with hammer
+strokes that seemed smooth and effortless, yet sank the nail to the head
+in an instant. He looked up over his shoulder at Joel, between nails.
+
+"Dead, d'ye say?" he countered quizzically.
+
+Joel nodded. "The Islanders? Did they do it, do you believe?"
+
+Old Aaron chuckled asthmatically. He had lost a fore tooth, and the
+effect of his mirth was not reassuring. "There's a brew i' the Islands,"
+he said. "More like 'twas the island brew nor the island men."
+
+Joel, for a moment, sat very still and considered. He knew Mark Shore had
+never scrupled to take strong drink when he chose; but Mark had always
+been a strong man to match his drink, and conquer it. Said Joel,
+therefore, after a space of thought:
+
+"Why do you think that, Aaron? Drink was never like to carry Mark away."
+
+Aaron squinted up at him. "Have ye sampled that island brew? 'Tis made of
+pineapples, or sago, or the like outlandish stuff, I've heard. And one
+sip is deviltry, and two is madness, and three is corruption. Some
+stomachs are used to it; they can handle it. But a raw man...."
+
+There was significance in the pause, and the unfinished sentence. Joel
+considered the matter. There had always been, between him and Mark,
+something of that sleeping enmity that so often arises between brothers.
+Mark was a man swift of tongue, flashing, and full of laughter and hot
+blood; a colorful man, like a splash of pigment on white canvas. Joel was
+in all things his opposite, quiet, and slow of thought and speech, and
+steady of gait. Mark was accustomed to jeer at him, to taunt him; and
+Joel, in the slow fashion of slow men, had resented this. Nevertheless,
+he cast aside prejudice now in his estimate of the situation; and he
+asked old Aaron:
+
+"Do you know there were Islanders about? Or this wild brew you speak of?"
+
+Aaron drove home a nail, and with his punch set it flush with the soft
+wood. "There was some drunken crew, shouting and screeching a mile up the
+beach," he said. "Some few of them came off to us with fruit. The sober
+ones. 'Twas them Mark Shore went to pandander with."
+
+"He went to them?" Joel echoed. Aaron nodded.
+
+"Aye. That he did."
+
+There was a long moment of silence before Joel asked huskily: "But was it
+like that he should stay with them freely?" For it is a black and
+shameful thing that a captain should desert his ship. When he had asked
+the question, he waited in something like fear for the carpenter's
+answer.
+
+"It comes to me," said Aaron slowly at last, "that you did not well know
+your brother. Ye'd only seen him ashore. And--I'm doubting that you knew
+all the circumstances of his departure from this ship."
+
+"I know that he went ashore," said Joel. "Went ashore, and left his men,
+and departed; and I know that they searched for him three weeks without a
+sign."
+
+Aaron sat back on his heels, and rubbed the smooth head of his hammer
+thoughtfully against his dry old cheek. "I'm not one to speak harm," he
+said. "And I've said naught, in the town. But--you have some right to
+know that Mark Shore was not a sober man when he left the ship. I' truth,
+he had not been sober--cold sober--for a week. And he left with a bottle
+in his coat." He nodded his gray old head, eyes not on Joel, but on the
+hammer in his hand. "Also, there was a pearling schooner in the lagoon,
+with drunk white men aboard."
+
+He glanced sidewise at Joel then, and saw the Captain's cheek bones
+slowly whiten. Whereupon old Aaron bent swiftly to his task, half fearful
+of what he had said. But when Joel spoke, it was only to say quietly:
+
+"Asa should have told me this."
+
+Aaron shook his head vehemently, but without looking up from his task.
+"Not so," he said. "There was no need the town should chew Mark's name.
+Better--" He glanced at Joel. "Better if he were thought dead. Asa's a
+good man, you mind. And--he knew your father."
+
+Joel nodded at that. "Asa meant wisest, I've no doubt," he agreed.
+"But--Mark would do nothing that he was shamed of."
+
+"Mark Shore," said Aaron thoughtfully, "did many things without shame for
+which other men would have blushit."
+
+Joel said curtly: "Aaron, ye'll say no more such things as that."
+
+"Ye're right," Aaron agreed. "I should no have said it. But--'tis so."
+
+Joel left him and went on deck, and his eyes were troubled.... Priss was
+there, with Dick Morrell showing her some trick of the wheel, and they
+were laughing together like children. Joel felt immensely older than
+Priss.... Yet the difference was scarce six years.... She saw him, and
+left Morrell and came running to Joel's side. "Did you sleep?" she asked.
+"You needed rest, Joe."
+
+"I rested," he told her, smiling faintly. "I'll be fine...."
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+They drifted past Pernambuco, and touched at Trinidad, and so worked
+south and somewhat westward for Cape Horn. And in Joel grew, stronger and
+ever, the resolve to hunt out Mark, and find him, and fetch him home....
+The blood tie was strong on Joel; stronger than any memory of Mark's
+derision. And--for the honor of the House of Shore, it were well to prove
+the matter, if Mark were dead. It is not well for a Shore to abandon his
+ship in strange seas.
+
+He asked Aaron, two weeks after their first talk, whether they had
+questioned the white men on the pearling schooner.
+
+"Oh, aye," said Aaron cheerfully. "I sought 'em out, myself. Three of
+them, they was; and ill-favored. A slinky small man, and a rat-eyed large
+man, and a fat man in between; all unshaven, and filthy, and drunken as
+owls. They'd seen naught of Mark Shore, they said. I'm thinking he'd let
+them see but little of him. He had no tenderness for dirt."
+
+Joel told Priss nothing of what he hoped and feared; nor did he question
+Jim Finch in the matter. Finch was a good man at set tasks, but he was
+too amiable, and he had no clamp upon his lips.... Joel did not wish the
+word to go abroad among the men. He was glad that most of the crew were
+new since last voyage; but the officers were unchanged, save that he
+stood in his brother's shoes.
+
+They left Trinidad behind them, and shouldered their way southward, the
+blunt bow of the _Nathan Ross_ battering the seas. And they came to the
+Straits, and worked in, and made their westing day by day, while little
+Priss, wide-eyed on the deck, watched the gaunt cliffs past whose
+wave-gnawed feet they stole. And so at last the Pacific opened out before
+them, and they caught the winds, and worked toward Easter Island.
+
+But their progress was slow. To men unschooled in the patience of the
+whaling trade, it would have been insufferably slow. For they struck
+fish; and day after day they hung idle on the waves while the trypots
+boiled; and day after day they loitered on good whaling grounds, when the
+boats were out thrice and four times between sun's rise and set. If Joel
+was impatient, he gave no sign. If his desires would have made him hasten
+on, his duty held him here, where rich catches waited for the taking; and
+while there were fish to be taken, he would not leave them behind.
+
+Priscilla hated it. She hated the grime, and the smoke, and the smell of
+boiling oil; and she hated this dawdling on the open seas, with never a
+glimpse of land. More than once she made Joel bear the brunt of her own
+unrest; and because it is not always good for two people to be too much
+together, and because she had nothing better to do, she began to pick
+Joel to pieces in her thoughts, and fret at his patience and stolidity.
+She wished he would grow angry, wished even that he might be angry with
+her.... She wished for anything to break the long days of deadly calm.
+And she watched Joel more intently than it is well for wife to watch
+husband, or for husband to watch wife.
+
+He did so many things that tried her sore. He had a fashion, when he had
+finished eating, of setting his hands against the table and pushing
+himself back from the board with slow and solid satisfaction. She came to
+the point where she longed to scream when he did this. When they were at
+table in the main cabin, she watched with such agony of trembling nerves
+for that movement of his that she forgot to eat, and could not relish
+what she ate.
+
+Joel was a man, and his life was moving smoothly. His ship's casks were
+filling more swiftly than he had any right to hope; his wife was at his
+side; his skies were clear. He was happy, and comfortable, and well
+content. Sometimes, when they were preparing for sleep, at night, in the
+cabin at the stern, he would relax on the couch there. But she did not
+wish for him to put his feet upon the cushions; she said that his shoes
+were dirty. He offered to take off his shoes; and she shuddered....
+
+He had a fashion of stretching and yawning comfortably as he bade her
+good night; and sometimes a yawn caught him in the middle of a word, and
+he talked while he yawned. She hated this. She was passing through that
+hard middle ground, that purgatory between maidenhood and wifehood in the
+course of which married folk find each other only human, after all. And
+she had not yet come to accept this condition, and to glory in it. She
+had always thought of Joel as a hero, a protector, a fine, stalwart,
+able, noble man. Now she forgot that he was commander of this ship and
+master of the men aboard her, and saw in him only a man who, when work
+was done, liked to take his ease--and who talked through his yawns.
+
+She gnawed at this bone of discontent, in the hours when Joel was busy with
+his work. She was furiously resentful of Joel's flesh-and-bloodness.... And
+Joel, because he was too busy to be introspective, continued calmly happy
+and content.
+
+The whales led them past Easter Island for a space; and then, abruptly,
+they were gone. Came day on day when the men at the masthead saw no misty
+spout against the wide blue of the sea, no glistening black body lying
+awash among the waves. And the Nathan Ross, with all hands scrubbing
+white the decks again, bent northward, working toward that maze of tiny
+islands which dots the wide South Seas.
+
+Their water was getting stale, and running somewhat low; and they needed
+fresh foodstuffs. Joel planned to touch at the first land that offered.
+Tubuai, that would be. He marked their progress on the chart.
+
+On the evening before they would reach the island, when Joel and Priss
+were preparing for sleep, Priss burst out furiously, like a teapot that
+boils over. The storm came without warning, and--so far as Joel could
+see--without provocation. She was sick, she said, of the endless wastes
+of blue. She wanted to see land. To step on it. If she were not allowed
+to do so very soon, she would die.
+
+Joel, at first, was minded to tell her they would sight land in the
+morning; then, with one of the blundering impulses to which husbands fall
+victim at such moments, he decided to wait and surprise her. So, instead
+of telling her, he chuckled as though at some secret jest, and tried to
+quiet her by patting her dark head.
+
+She fell silent at his caress; and Joel thought she was appeased. As a
+matter of fact, she was hating him for having laughed at her; and her
+calm was ferocious. He discovered this, too late....
+
+He had just kissed her good night. She turned her cheek to his lips; and
+he was faintly hurt at this. But he only said cheerfully: "There,
+Priss.... You'll be all right in the morning...."
+
+He yawned in mid-sentence, so that the last two or three words sounded as
+though he were trying to swallow a large and hot potato while he uttered
+them. Priss could stand no more of that. Positively. So she slapped his
+face.
+
+He was amazed; and he stood, looking at her helplessly, while the slapped
+cheek grew red and red. Priss burst into tears, stamped her foot, called
+him names she did not mean, and as a climax, darted into her own cabin,
+and swung the door, and snapped the latch.
+
+Joel did not in the least understand; and he went to his bunk at last,
+profoundly troubled.
+
+An hour after they anchored, the next day, at Tubuai, a boat came out
+from shore and ran alongside, and Mark Shore swung across the rail,
+aboard the _Nathan Ross_.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+Mark Shore held something like a reception, on the _Nathan Ross_, all
+that first day. He went forward among the men to greet old friends and
+meet new ones, and came back and complimented Joel on the quality of his
+crew. "You've made good men of them," he said. "Those that weren't good
+men before."
+
+He listened, with a smile half contemptuous, to Jim Finch's somewhat
+slavish phrases of welcome and admiration; and he talked with Varde, the
+morose second mate, so gayly that even Varde was cozened at last into a
+grin. Old Hooper was pathetically glad to see him. Hooper had been mate
+of the ship on which Mark started out as a boy; and he liked to hark back
+to those days. Young Dick Morrell, on his trips from the shore, gave Mark
+frank worship.
+
+Joel saw all this. He could not help seeing it. And he told himself,
+again and again, that it was only to be expected. Mark had captained this
+ship, had captained these men, on their last cruise; they had thought him
+dead. It was only natural that they should welcome him back to life
+again....
+
+But even while he gave himself this reassurance, he knew that it was
+untrue. There was more than mere welcome in the attitude of the men;
+there was more than admiration. There was a quality of awe that was akin
+to worship; and there was, beneath this awe, a lively curiosity as to
+what Mark would do.... They knew him for a quick man, dominant, one with
+the will to lead; and now he found himself supplanted, dependent on the
+word of his own younger brother.... Every one knew that Mark and Joel had
+always been rather enemies than comrades; so, now, they wondered, and
+waited, and watched with all their eyes. Joel saw them, by twos and
+threes, whispering together about the ship; and he knew what it was they
+were asking each other.
+
+Of all those on the _Nathan Ross_ that day, Mark himself seemed least
+conscious of the dramatic possibilities of the situation. He was glad to
+be back among friends; but beyond that he did not go. He gave Joel an
+exaggerated measure of respect, so extreme that it was worse than scorn
+or mockery. Otherwise, he took no notice of the potentialities created by
+his return.
+
+Priss had planned to go ashore in the afternoon; but Mark dissuaded her.
+This was not difficult; he did it so laughingly and so dextrously that
+Priss changed her mind without knowing just why she did so. Mark took it
+upon himself to make up for her disappointment; they were together most
+of the long, hot afternoon. Joel could hear their laughter now and then.
+
+He had expected to go ashore with Priss; but when she came to him and
+said: "Joel, Mark says it's just dirty and hot and ugly, ashore, and I'm
+not going," he changed his mind. There was no need of his making the
+trip, after all. Varde and Morrell had brought out water, towing long
+strings of almost-filled casks behind their boats; and boats from the
+shore had come off to sell fresh food. So at dusk, the anchor came up,
+and the _Nathan Ross_ spread her dingy sails, and stalked out of the
+harbor with the utmost dignity in every stiff line of her, and the night
+behind them swallowed up the island. Mark and Priss were astern to watch
+it blend in the darkness and lose itself; and Priss, when their last
+glimpse of it faded, heard the man draw a deep breath of something like
+relief. She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
+
+"What is it?" she asked softly. "Were you--unhappy there?"
+
+Mark laughed aloud. "My dear Priss," he said, in the elder-brother manner
+he affected toward her. "My dear Priss, the South Sea Islands are no
+place for a white man, especially when he is alone. I'm glad to get back
+in the smell of oil, with an honest deck underfoot. And I don't mind
+saying so."
+
+Priss shuddered, and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, how I hate that smell," she
+exclaimed. "But, Mark--tell me where you've been, and what you did,
+and--everything. Why won't you tell?"
+
+He wagged his head at her severely. "Children," he said, "should be seen
+and not heard."
+
+She stamped her foot. "I'm not a child. I'm a woman."
+
+He bent toward her suddenly, his dark eyes so close to hers that she
+could see the flickering flame which played in them, and the twist of his
+smile. "I wonder!" he whispered. "Oh--I wonder if you are...."
+
+She was frightened, deliciously....
+
+Mark had persisted, all day long, in his refusal to tell her of himself.
+He had dropped a sentence now and then that brought to life in her
+imagination a strange, wild picture.... But always he set a bar upon his
+lips, caught back the words, refused to explain what it was he had meant
+to say. When she persisted, he laughed at her and told her he only did it
+to be mysterious. "Mystery is always interesting, you understand," he
+explained. "And--I wish to be very interesting to you, Priss."
+
+She looked around the after deck for Joel; but he was below in the cabin,
+and she decided, abruptly, that she must go down....
+
+They had bought chickens at Tubuai, and they had two of them, boiled, for
+supper that night in the cabin. It was a feast, after the long months of
+sober diet; and the presence of Mark made it something more. He was a
+good talker, and without revealing anything of the months of his
+disappearance, he nevertheless told them stories that held each one
+breathless with interest. But after supper, he went on deck with Finch,
+and Joel and Priss sat in the cabin astern for a while; and Joel wrote
+up, in the ship's log, the story of his brother's return. Priss read it
+over his shoulder, and afterwards she clung close to Joel. "He's a
+terribly--overwhelming man, isn't he?" she whispered.
+
+Joel looked down at her, and smiled thoughtfully. "Aye, Mark's a big
+man," he agreed. "Big--in many ways. But--you'll be used to him
+presently, Priss."
+
+When she prepared to go to bed, he bade her good night and left her, and
+went on deck; and Priss, in her narrow bunk in the cabin at the side of
+the ship, lay wide-eyed with many thoughts stirring in her small head.
+She was still awake when she heard them come down into the main cabin
+together, Joel and Mark. The walls were thin; she could hear their words,
+and she heard Mark ask: "Sure Priss is asleep? There are parts--not for
+the pretty ears of a bride, Joel."
+
+Priss was not asleep, but when Joel came to see, she closed her eyes, and
+lay as still as still, scarce breathing. Joel bent over her softly; and
+he touched her head, clumsily, with his hand, and patted it, and went
+away again, closing her door behind him. She heard him tell Mark: "Aye,
+she's fast asleep."
+
+The brothers sat by Joel's desk, in the cabin across the stern; and Mark,
+without preamble, told his story there. Priss, ten feet away, heard every
+word; and she lay huddled beneath the blankets, eyes staring upward into
+the darkness of her cabin; and as she listened, she shuddered and
+trembled and shrank at the terror and wonder and ugliness of the tale he
+told. No Desdemona ever listened with such half-caught breath....
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+"You're blaming me," said Mark, when he and Joel were puffing at their
+pipes, "for leaving my ship."
+
+Joel said slowly: "No. But I do not understand it."
+
+Mark laughed, a soft and throaty laugh. "You would not, Joel. You would
+not. For you never felt an overwhelming notion that you must dance in the
+moon upon the sand. You've never felt that, Joel; and--I have."
+
+"I'm not a hand for dancing," said Joel.
+
+Mark seemed to forget that his brother sat beside him. His eyes became
+misty and thoughtful, as though he were living over again the days of
+which he spoke. "Mind, Joel," he said, "there's a pagan in every man of
+us. And there's two pagans in some of us. And I'm minded, Joel, that
+there are three of them in me. 'Twas so, that night."
+
+"It was night when you left the ship?"
+
+"Aye, night. Night, and the moon; and it may have been that I had been
+drinking a drop or two. Also, as you shall see, I was not well. I tell
+these things, not by way of excuse and palliation; but only so that you
+may understand. D'ye see? I was three pagans in one body, and that body
+witched by moon, and twisted by drink, and trembling with fever. And so
+it was I went ashore, and flung my men behind me, and went off, dancing,
+along the hard sand.
+
+"That was a night, Joel. A slow-winded, warm, trembling night when there
+was a song in the very air. The wind tingled on your throat like a
+woman's finger tips; and the sea was singing at the one side, and the
+wind in the palms on the other. And ahead of me, the wild, discordant
+chanting of the Islanders about their fires.... That singing it was that
+got me by the throat, and led me. I twirled around and around, very
+solemnly, by myself in the moonlight on the sand; and all the time I went
+onward toward the fires....
+
+"I remember, when I came in sight of the fires, I threw away my coat and
+ran in among them. And they scattered, and yelled their harsh,
+meaningless, throaty yells. And they hid in the bush to stare at me by
+the fire.... They hid in the rank, thick grasses. All except one, Joel."
+
+Joel, listening, watched his brother and saw through his brother's eyes;
+for he knew, for all his slow blood, the witchery of those warm, southern
+nights.
+
+"The moon was on her," said Mark. "The moon was on her, and there was a
+red blossom in her hair, and some strings of things that clothed her. A
+little brown girl, with eyes like the eyes of a deer. And--not afraid of
+me. That was the thing that got me, Joel. She stood in my path, met me,
+watched me; and her eyes were not afraid....
+
+"She was very little. She was only a child. I suppose we would call her
+sixteen or seventeen years old. But they ripen quickly, Joel--these
+Island children. Her little shoulders were as smooth and soft.... You
+could not even mark the ridge of her collar bones, she was fleshed so
+sweetly. She stood, and watched me; and the others crept out of the
+grasses, at last, and stood about us. And then this little brown girl
+held up her hand to me, and pointed me out to the others, and said
+something. I did not know what it was that she said; but I know now. She
+said that I was sick.
+
+"I did not know then that I was sick. When she lifted her hand to me, I
+caught it; and I began to lead her in a wild dance, in the moonlight,
+about their dying fires. I could see them, in the shadows, their eyeballs
+shining as they watched us.... And they seemed, after a little, to move
+about in a misty, inhuman fashion; and they twisted into strange,
+cloud-like shapes. And I stopped to laugh at them, and my head dropped
+down before I could catch it and struck against the earth, and the earth
+forsook me, Joel, and left me swimming in nothing at all....
+
+"My memory was a long time in coming back to me, Joel. It would peep out
+at me like a timid child, hiding among the trees. I would see it for an
+instant; then 'twould be gone. But I know it must have been many days
+that I was on the island there. And I knew, after a time, that I was most
+extremely sick; and the little brown girl put cool leaves on my head, and
+gave me strange brews to drink, and rubbed and patted my chest and my
+body with her hands in a fashion that was immensely comfortable and
+strengthening. And I twisted on a bed of coarse grass.... And I remember
+singing, at times...."
+
+He looked toward Joel, eyes suddenly flaming. "Eh, Joel, I tell you I was
+not three pagans, but six, in those days. The thing's clear beyond your
+guessing, Joel. But it was big. An immense thing. I was back at the
+beginning of the world, with food, and drink, and my woman.... It was
+big, I tell you. Big!"
+
+His eyes clouded--he fell silent, and so at last went on again. "I was
+asleep one night, tossing in my sleep. And something woke me. And I laid
+my hand on the spot beside me where the little brown girl used to lie,
+and she was gone. So I got up, unsteadily. There were rifles snapping in
+the night; and there were screams. And I heard a white man's black curse;
+and the slap of a blow of flesh on flesh. And the screams.
+
+"So I went that way; and the sounds retreated before me, until I came
+out, unsteadily, upon the open beach. There was no moon, that night; and
+the water of the lagoon was shot with fire. And there was a boat, pulling
+away from the beach, with screaming in it.
+
+"I swam after the boat for a long time, for I thought I had heard the
+voice of the little brown girl. The water was full of fire. When I lifted
+my arms, the fire ran down them in streams and drops. And sometimes I
+forgot what I was about, and stopped to laugh at these drops of fire. But
+in the end, I always swam on. I remember once I thought the little brown
+girl swam beside me, and I tried to throw my arm about her, and she
+wrenched away, and she burned me like a brand. I found, afterwards, what
+that was. My breast and sides were rasped and raw where a shark's rough
+skin had scraped them. I've wondered, Joel, why the beast did not take
+me....
+
+"But he did not; for I bumped at last into the boat, and climbed into it,
+and it was empty. But I saw a rope at the end of it, and I pulled the
+rope, and came to the schooner's stern, and climbed aboard her."
+
+His voice was ringing, exultantly and proudly. "I swung aboard," he said.
+"And I stumbled over fighting bodies on the deck, astern there. And some
+one cried out, in the waist of her; and I knew it was the little brown
+girl. So I left those struggling bodies at the stern, for they were not
+my concern; and I went forward to the waist. And I found her there.
+
+"A fat man had her. She was fighting him; and he did not see me. And I
+put my fingers quietly into his neck, from behind; and when he no longer
+kicked back at me, and no longer tore at my fingers with his, I dropped
+him over the side. I saw a fiery streak in the water where I dropped him.
+That shark was not so squeamish as the one I had--embraced. It may have
+been the other was embarrassed at my ways, Joel. D'ye think that might
+have been the way of it?"
+
+Joel's knuckles were white, where his hand rested on his knee. Mark saw,
+and laughed softly. "There's blood in you, after all, boy," he applauded.
+"I've hopes for you."
+
+Joel said slowly: "What then? What then, Mark?"
+
+Mark laughed. "Well, that was a very funny thing," he said. "You see, the
+other two men, they were busy, astern, with their own concerns. And when
+I had comforted the little brown girl, and sat down on the deck to laugh
+at the folly of it all, she slipped away from me, and went aft, and got
+all their rifles. She brought them to me. She seemed to expect things of
+me. So I, still laughing, for the fever was on me; I took the rifles and
+threw them, all but one, over the side. And I went down into the cabin,
+with the little brown girl, and went to bed; and she sat beside me, with
+the rifle, and a lamp hanging above the door....
+
+"And that was all that happened, until I woke one morning and saw her
+there, and wondered where I was. And my head was clear again. She made me
+understand that the men had sought to come at me, but had feared the
+rifle in her hands....
+
+"And we were in the open sea, as I could feel by the labor of the
+schooner underfoot. So I took the rifle in the crook of my arm, and with
+the little brown girl at my heel, I went up on deck. And we made a
+treaty."
+
+He fell silent for a moment, and Joel watched him, and waited. And at
+last, Mark went on.
+
+"I had been more than a month on the island," he said. "The _Nathan Ross_
+had gone. This schooner was a pearler, and they had the location of a bed
+of shell. They had been waiting till another schooner should leave the
+place, to leave their own way clear. And when that time came, they went
+ashore to get the brown women for companions on that cruise. And they
+made the mistake of picking up my little brown girl, when she ran out of
+the hut. And so brought me down upon them.
+
+"There were two of them left; two whites, and three black men forward,
+who were of no account. And the other two women. These other two were
+chattering together, on the deck astern, when I appeared. They seemed
+content enough....
+
+"The men were not happy. There was a large man with slanting eyes. There
+was Oriental blood in him. You could see that. He called himself Quint.
+But his eyes were Jap, or Chinese; and he had their calm, blank screen
+across his countenance, to hide what may have been his thoughts. Quint,
+he called himself. And he was a big man, and very much of a man in his
+own way, Joel.
+
+"The other was little, and he walked with a slink and a grin. His name
+was Fetcher. And he was oily in his speech.
+
+"When they saw me, they studied me for a considerable time without
+speech. And I stood there, with the rifle in my arm, and laughed at them.
+And at last, Quint said calmly:
+
+"'You took Farrell.'
+
+"'The fat man?' I asked him. He nodded. 'Yes,' I said. 'He took my girl,
+and so I dropped him into the water, and a friend met him there and
+hurried him away.'
+
+"'Your girl?' he echoed, in a nasty way. 'You're that, then?'
+
+"'Am I?' I asked, and shifted the rifle a thought to the fore. And his
+eyes held mine for a space, and then he shook his head.
+
+"'I see that I was mistaken,' he said.
+
+"'Your sight is good,' I told him. 'Now--what is this? Tell me.'
+
+"He told me, evenly and without malice. They had a line on the pearls;
+there were enough for three. I was welcome. And at the end, I nodded my
+consent. The _Nathan Ross_ was gone. Furthermore, there were nine pagans
+in me now; and the prospect of looting some still lagoon, in company with
+these two rats, had a wild flavor about it that caught me. My blood was
+burning; and the sun was hot. Also, they had liquor aboard her. Liquor,
+and loot, and the three women. Pagan, Joel. Pagan! But wild and red and
+raw. There's a glory about such things.... Songs are made of them....
+There was no handshaking; but we made alliance, and crowded on sail, and
+went on our way."
+
+He stopped short, laughed, filled his pipe again, watched Joel. "You're
+shocked with me, boy. I can see it," he taunted mockingly. Joel shook his
+head. "Will you hear the rest?" Mark asked; and Joel nodded. Mark lighted
+his pipe, laughed.... His fingers thrummed on the desk beside him.
+
+"We were a week on the way," he said. "And all pagan, every minute of the
+week. Days when we fought a storm--as bad as I've ever seen, Joel. We
+fought it, holding to the ropes with our teeth, bare to the waist, with
+the wind scourging us. It tore at us, and lashed at us.... And we drove
+the three black men with knives to their work. And the three women stayed
+below, except my little brown girl. She came up, now and then, with dry
+clothes for me.... And I had to drive her to shelter....
+
+"And when there was not the storm, there was liquor; and they had cards.
+We staked our shares in the catch that was to come.... Hour on hour,
+dealing, and playing with few words; and our eyes burned hollow in their
+sockets, and Quint's thin mouth twisted and writhed all the time like a
+worm on a pin. He was a nervous man, for all his calm. A very nervous
+man....
+
+"The fifth day, one of the blacks stumbled in Quint's path, on deck.
+Quint had been losing, at the cards. He slid a knife from his sleeve into
+the man's ribs, and tipped the black over the rail without a word. I was
+twenty feet away, and it was done before I could catch breath. I shouted;
+and Quint turned and looked at me, and he smiled.
+
+"'What is it?' he asked. 'Have you objections to present?' And the
+smeared blade in his hand, and the bubbles still rising, overside. I was
+afraid of the man, Joel. I tell you I was afraid. The only time. Fear's a
+pagan joy, boy. It was like a new drink to me. I nursed it, eating it.
+And I shook my head, humble.
+
+"'No objections,' I said, to Quint. ''Tis your affair.'
+
+"'That was my thought,' he agreed, and passed me, and went astern. I
+stood aside to let him pass, and trembled, and laughed for the joy of my
+fear.
+
+"And then we came to the lagoon, and the blacks began to dive. Only the
+two we had; and there was no sign of Islanders, ashore. But the water was
+shallow, and we worked the men with knives, and they got pearls.
+Sometimes one or two in a day; sometimes a dozen. Do you know pearls,
+Joel? They're sweet as a woman's skin. I had never seen them, before. And
+we all went a little mad over them....
+
+"They made Fetcher hysterical. He laughed too much. They made Quint
+morose. They made me tremble...."
+
+He wiped his hand across his eyes, as though the memory wearied him; and
+he moved his great shoulders, and looked at Joel, and laughed. "But it
+could not last, in that fashion," he said. "It might have been anything.
+It turned out to be the women. I said they seemed content. They did. But
+that may be the way of the blacks. They have a happy habit of life; they
+laugh easily....
+
+"At any rate, we found one morning that Quint's girl was gone. She was
+not on the schooner; and ashore, we found her tracks in the sand. She had
+gone into the trees. And we beat the island, and we did not find her. And
+Quint sweated. All that day.
+
+"That night, he looked at my little brown girl, and touched her shoulder.
+I was across the deck, the girl coming to me with food. I said to him:
+'No. She's mine, Quint.' And he looked at me, and I beat him with my
+eyes. And as his turned from mine, Fetcher and his woman came on deck,
+and Quint tapped Fetcher, and said to him: 'What will you take for her?'
+
+"Fetcher laughed at him; and Quint scowled. And I--for I was minded to
+see sport, came across to them and said: 'Play for her. Play for her!'
+
+"Fetcher was willing; because he had the blood that gambles anything.
+Quint was willing, because he was the better player. They sat down to the
+game, in the cabin, after supper. Poker. Cold hands. Nine of them. Winner
+of five to win....
+
+"Fetcher got two, lost four, got two more. I was dealing. Card by card,
+face upward. I remember those hands. And my little brown girl, and the
+other, watching from the corner.
+
+"The hands on the table grew, card by card. Fetcher got an ace, Quint a
+deuce. Fetcher a queen, Quint a seven. Fetcher a jack, Quint a six.
+Fetcher a ten, Quint a ten. Only the last card to come to each. If
+Fetcher paired any card, he would win. His card came first. It was a
+seven. He was ace, queen high. Quint had deuce, six, seven, ten. He had
+to get a pair to win....
+
+"I saw Quint's hand stir, beneath the table; and I glimpsed a knife in
+it. But before I could speak, or stir, Fetcher dropped his own hand to
+his trouser leg, and I knew he kept a blade there.... So I laughed, and
+dealt Quint's last card....
+
+"A deuce. He had a pair, enough to win....
+
+"He leaned back, laughing grimly; and Fetcher's knife went in beneath the
+left side of his jaw, where the jugular lies. Quint looked surprised, and
+got up out of his chair and lay down quietly across the table. I heard
+the bubbling of his last breath.... Then Fetcher laughed, and called his
+woman, and they took Quint on deck and tipped him overside. The knife had
+been well thrown. Fetcher had barely moved his wrist.... I was much
+impressed with the little man, and told my brown girl so. But she was
+frightened, and I comforted her."
+
+He was silent again for a time, pressing the hot ashes in his pipe with
+his thumb. The water slapped the broad stern of the ship beneath them,
+and Joel's pipe was gurgling. There was no other sound. Little Priss,
+nails biting her palms, thought she would stream if the silence held an
+instant more....
+
+But Mark laughed softly, and went on.
+
+"Fetcher and I worked smoothly together," he said. "The little man was
+very pleasant and affable; and I met him half way. The blacks brought up
+the shells, and we idled through the days, and played cards at night. We
+divided the take, each day; so our stakes ran fairly high. But luck has a
+way of balancing. On the day when we saw the end in sight, we were fairly
+even....
+
+"Fetcher, and the blacks and I went ashore to get fruit from the trees
+there. Plenty of it everywhere; and we were running short. We went into
+the brush together, very pleasantly; and he fell a little behind. I
+looked back, and his knife brushed my neck and quivered in a tree a yard
+beyond me. So I went back and took him in my hands. He had another
+knife--the little man fairly bristled with them. But it struck a rib, and
+before he could use it again, his neck snapped.
+
+"So that I was alone on the schooner, with the two blacks, and Fetcher's
+woman, and the little brown girl.
+
+"Fetcher's woman went ashore to find him and never came back. And I
+decided it was time for me to go away from that place. The pagans were
+dying in me. I did not like that quiet little island any more.
+
+"But the next morning, when I looked out beyond the lagoon, another
+schooner was coming in. So I was uncomfortable with Fetcher's pearls, as
+well as mine, in my pocket. There are some hard men in these seas, Joel;
+and I knew none of them would treasure me above my pearls. So I planned a
+story of misfortune, and I went ashore to hide my pearls under a rock.
+
+"The blacks had brought me ashore. I went out of their sight to do what I
+had to do; and when I came back, after hiding the pearls, I saw them
+rowing very swiftly toward the schooner. And they looked back at me in a
+fearful way. I wondered why; and then four black men came down on me from
+behind, with knives and clubs.
+
+"I had a very hard day, that day. They hunted me back and forth through
+the island--I had not even a knife with me--and I met them here and
+there, and suffered certain contusions and bruises and minor cuts. Also,
+I grew very tired of killing them. They were wiry, but they were small,
+and died easily. So I was glad, when from a point where they had cornered
+me I saw the little brown girl rowing the big boat toward me.
+
+"She was alone. The blacks were afraid to come, I thought. But I found
+afterward that this was not true. They could not come; for they had tried
+to seize the schooner and go quickly away from that place, and the little
+brown girl had drilled them both. She had a knack with the rifle....
+
+"I waded to meet the boat, and she tossed me the gun. I held them off for
+a little, while we drew away from the shore. But when we were thirty or
+forty yards off, I heard rifles from the other schooner, firing past us
+at the blacks in the bush; and the girl stopped rowing. So I turned
+around and saw that one of the balls from the other schooner had struck
+her in the back. So I sat there, in the sun, drifting with the wind, and
+held her in my arms till she coughed and died.
+
+"Then I went out to the other schooner and told them they were bad
+marksmen. They had only been passing by, for copra; and the story I told
+them was a shocking one. They were much impressed, and they seemed glad
+to get away. But the blacks were still on shore, so that I could not go
+back for the pearls; and I worked the schooner out by myself, and shaped
+a course....
+
+"I came to Tubuai, alone thus, a day before you, Joel."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+Even Joel Shore saw the new light in Priscilla's eyes when she met Mark
+at breakfast in the cabin next morning; and it is said husbands are the
+last to see such things.
+
+That story she had heard the night before, the story Mark told Joel in
+the after cabin, had made of him something superhuman in her eyes. He was
+a gigantic, an epic figure; he had lived red life, and fought for his
+life, and killed.... There was Puritan blood in Priscilla; but
+overrunning it was a flood of warmer life, a cross-strain from some
+southern forebear, which sang now in answer to the touch of Mark's words.
+She watched him, that morning, with wide eyes that were full of wonder
+and of awe.
+
+Mark saw, and was immensely amused. He asked her: "Why do you look at me
+like that, little sister? I'm not going to bite...."
+
+Priscilla caught herself, and smiled, and laughed at him. "How do I look
+at you? You're--imagining things, Mark."
+
+"Am I?" he asked. And he touched Joel's arm. "Look at her, Joel, and see
+which of us is right."
+
+Joel was eating his breakfast silently, but he had seen Priscilla's eyes.
+He looked toward her now, and she flushed in spite of herself, and got up
+quickly, and slipped away.... They watched her go, Joel's eyes clouded
+thoughtfully, Mark's shining. And when she was gone, Mark leaned across
+and said to Joel softly, a devil of mischief in his eyes: "She heard my
+tale last night, Joel. She was not asleep. Fooled you...."
+
+Joel shook his head. "No. She was asleep."
+
+Mark laughed. "Don't you suppose I know. I've seen that look in woman's
+eyes before. In the eyes of the little brown girl, the night I dropped
+the fat man overside...."
+
+He sat there, chuckling, when Joel got abruptly to his feet and went on
+deck; and when he came up the companion a little later, he was still
+chuckling under his breath.
+
+After that first morning, Priss was able to cloak her eyes and hide her
+thoughts; and on the surface, life aboard the _Nathan Ross_ seemed to go
+on as before. Mark threw himself into the routine of the work, mixing
+with the men, going off in the boats when there was a whale to be struck,
+doing three men's share of toil. Joel one day remonstrated with him. "It
+is not wise," he said. "You were captain here; you are my brother. It is
+not wise for you to mix, as an equal, with the men."
+
+Mark only laughed at him. "Your dignity is very precious to you, Joel,"
+he mocked. "But as for me--I am not proud. You'd not have me sit aft and
+twiddle my thumbs and hold yarn for little Priss.... And I must be doing
+something...."
+
+He and Jim Finch were much together. Finch always gave Joel careful
+obedience, always handled the ship when he was in charge with smooth
+efficiency. His boat was the best manned and the most successful of the
+four. But he and Joel were not comradely. Joel instinctively disliked the
+big man; and Finch's servility disgusted him. The mate was full of smooth
+and flattering words, but his eyes were shallow.
+
+Mark talked with him long, one morning; and then he left Finch and came
+to Joel, by the after house, chuckling as though at some enormous jest.
+"Will ye look at Finch, there?" he begged.
+
+Joel had been watching the two. He saw Finch now, standing just forward
+of the boat house with flushed cheeks and eyes fixed and hands twitching.
+The big man was powerfully moved by something.... "What is it that's got
+him?" Joel asked.
+
+"I've told him about the pearls," Mark chuckled. "He's wild to be after
+them...."
+
+Joel turned on his brother hotly. "You're mad, Mark," he snapped. "That
+is no word to be loose in the ship."
+
+"I've but told Finch," Mark protested. "It's mirthful to watch the man
+wiggle."
+
+"He'll tell the ship. His tongue wags unceasingly."
+
+Mark lifted his shoulders. "Tell him to be silent. You should keep order
+on your ship, Joel."
+
+Joel beckoned, and Finch came toward them. As he came, he fought for self
+control; and when he stood before them, his lips were twisting into
+something like a smile, and his eyes were shifty and gleaming. Joel said
+quietly:
+
+"Mr. Finch, my brother says he has told you his story."
+
+"Yes, sir," said Finch. "An extraordinary adventure, Captain Shore."
+
+"I think it best the men should know nothing about it," Joel told him.
+"You will please keep it to yourself."
+
+Finch grinned. "Of course, sir. There's no need they should have any
+share in them."
+
+Joel flushed angrily. "We are not going after them. I consider it
+dangerous, and unwise."
+
+Over Finch's fat cheeks swept a twitching grimace of dismay. "But I
+thought...." He looked at Mark, and Mark was chuckling. "It's so easy,
+sir," he protested. "Just go, and get them.... Rich...."
+
+Joel shook his head. "Keep silent about the matter, Finch."
+
+Finch slowly bowed his head, and he smirked respectfully. "Very well,
+Captain Shore," he agreed. "You always know best, sir."
+
+He turned away; and after a little Mark said softly: "You have him well
+trained, Joel. Like a little dog.... I wonder that you can handle men
+so...."
+
+Two days later, Joel knew that either Finch or Mark had told the tale
+anew. Young Dick Morrell came to him with shining eyes. "Is it true, sir,
+that we're going after the pearls your brother hid?" he asked. "I just
+heard...."
+
+Joel gripped the boy's arm. "Who told you?"
+
+Morrell twisted free, half angry. "I--overheard it, sir. Is it true?"
+
+"No," said Joel. "We're a whaler, and we stick to our trade."
+
+Dick lifted both hands, in a gesture almost pleading. "But it would be so
+simple, sir...."
+
+"Keep the whole matter quiet, Morrell," Joel told him. "I do not wish the
+men to know of it. And if you hear any further talk, report it to me."
+
+Morrell's eyes were sulky. He said slowly: "Yes, sir." The set of his
+shoulders, as he stalked forward, seemed to Joel defiant....
+
+Within the week, the whole ship knew the story. Old Aaron Burnham,
+repairing a bunk in the fo'c's'le, heard the men whispering the thing
+among themselves. "Tongues hissing like little serpents, sir," he told
+Joel, in the cabin that night. "All of pearls, and women, and the
+like.... And a shine in their eyes...."
+
+"Thanks, Aaron," Joel said. "I'm sorry the men know...."
+
+"Aye, they know. Be sure of that," Aaron repeated, with bobbing head.
+"And they're roused by what they know. Some say you're going after the
+pearls, and aim to fraud them of their lay. And some say you're a mad
+fool that will not go...."
+
+Joel's fist, on the table, softly clenched. "What else?" he asked.
+
+Aaron watched him sidewise. "There was a whisper that you might be made
+to go...."
+
+Priscilla saw, that night, that Joel was troubled. She and Mark were
+together on the cushioned seat in the after cabin, and Joel sat at his
+desk, over the log. Mark was telling Priss an expurgated version of some
+one of his adventures; and Joel, looking once or twice that way, saw the
+quick-caught breath in her throat, saw her tremulous interest.... And his
+eyes clouded, so that when Priscilla chanced to look toward him, she saw,
+and cried:
+
+"Joel! What's the matter? You look so...."
+
+He looked from one of them to the other for a space; and then his eyes
+rested on Mark's, and he said slowly: "It's in my mind that I'd have done
+best to set you ashore at Tubuai, Mark."
+
+Mark laughed; but Priss cried hotly: "Joel! What a perfectly horrible
+thing to say!" Her voice had grown deeper and more resonant of late, Joel
+thought. It was no longer the voice of a girl, but of a woman.... Mark
+touched her arm.
+
+"Don't care about him," he told her. "That's only brotherly love...."
+
+"He oughtn't to say it."
+
+Joel said quietly: "This is a matter you do not understand, Priscilla.
+You would do well to keep silent. It is my affair."
+
+A month before, this would have swept Priss into a fury of anger; but
+this night, though her eyes burned with slow resentment, she bit her lips
+and was still. A month ago, she would have forgotten over night. Now she
+would remember....
+
+Mark got up, laughed. "He's bad company, Priss," he told her. "Come on
+deck with me."
+
+She rose, readily enough; and they went out through the main cabin, and
+up the companionway. Joel watched them go. They left open the door into
+the cabin, and he heard Varde and Finch, at the table there, talking in
+husky whispers.... It was so, he knew, over the whole ship. Everywhere,
+the men were whispering.... There hung over the _Nathan Ross_ a cloud as
+definite as a man's hand; and every man scowled--save Mark Shore. Mark
+smiled with malicious delight at the gathering storm he had provoked....
+
+Joel, left in the after cabin, felt terribly lonely. He wanted Priss with
+him, laughing, at his side. His longing for her was like a hot coal in
+his throat, burning there. And she had taken sides with Mark, against
+him.... His shoulders shook with the sudden surge of his desire to grip
+Mark's lean throat.... Ashore, he would have done so. But as things were,
+the ship was his first charge; and a break with Mark would precipitate
+the thing that menaced the ship.... He could not fight Mark without
+risking the _Nathan Ross_; and he could not risk the _Nathan Ross_. Not
+even.... His head dropped for an instant in his arms, and then he got up
+quickly, and shook himself, and set his lips.... No man aboard must see
+the trouble in his heart....
+
+He went through the main cabin, and climbed to the deck. There was some
+sea running, and a wind that brushed aside all smaller sounds, so that he
+made little noise. Thus, when he reached the top of the companion, he saw
+two dark figures in the shadows of the boat house, closely clasped....
+
+He stood for an instant, white hot.... His wife, and Mark.... His little
+Priss, and his brother....
+
+Then he went quietly below, and glanced at the chart, and chose a course
+upon it. The nearest land; he and Mark ashore together.... His blood ran
+hungrily at the thought....
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+Priscilla went on deck that night so angry with Joel that she could have
+killed him; and Mark played upon her as a skilled hand plays upon the
+harp. It was such a night as the South Seas know, warm and languorous,
+the wind caressing, and the salt spray stinging gently on the cheek. The
+moon was near the full, and it laid a path of silver on the water. This
+path was like the road to fairyland; and Mark told Priscilla so. He
+dropped into a gay little phantasy that he conceived on the moment, a
+story of fairies, and of dancing in the moonlight, and of a man and a
+woman, hand in hand....
+
+She felt the spell he laid upon her, and struggled against it. "Tell me
+about the last fight, when the little brown girl was killed," she begged.
+
+He had told her snatches of his story here and there; but he had not,
+till that night, spoken of the pearls. When Priss heard of them, she
+swung about and lifted up her face to his, listening like a child. And
+Mark told the story with a tongue of gold, so that she saw it all; the
+lagoon, blue in the sun; and the schooner creeping in from the sea; and
+the hours of flight through the semi-jungle of the island, with the
+blacks in such hot pursuit. He told her of the times when they surrounded
+him, when he fought himself free.... How he got a great stone and gripped
+it in his hand, and how with this stone he crushed the skull of a young
+black with but one eye. Priss shuddered with delicious horror at the
+tale....
+
+She loved best to hear of the little brown girl whom Mark had loved; and
+that would have told either of them, if they had stopped to consider,
+that she did not love Mark. Else she would have hated the other, brown or
+white.... And he told how the brown girl saved him, and gave her life in
+the saving, and how he had stopped at a little atoll on his homeward way
+and buried her.... She had died in his arms, smiling because she lay
+there....
+
+"And the pearls?" Priss asked, when she had heard the story through. "You
+left them there?"
+
+"There they are still," he told her. "Safely hid away."
+
+"How many?" she asked. "Are they lovely?"
+
+"Three big ones, and thirty-two of a fair size, and enough little ones
+and seeds to make a double handful."
+
+"But why did you leave them there?"
+
+"The black men were on the island. They were there, and watchful, and
+very angry."
+
+"Couldn't you have kept them in your pocket?"
+
+He laughed. "That other schooner made me cautious. Man's life is cheap,
+in such matters. And if they guessed I had such things upon me.... If I
+slept too soundly, or the like.... D'ye see?"
+
+She nodded her dark head. "I see. But you'll go back...."
+
+He chuckled at that, and tapped on the rail with one knuckle, in a
+thoughtful way. "I had thought that Joel and I would go, in the _Nathan
+Ross_, and fetch the things away," he said.
+
+"Of course," she exclaimed. "That would be so easy.... I'd love to see
+the--pearls...."
+
+"Easy? That was my own thought," he agreed. Something in his tone
+prompted her question.
+
+"Why--isn't it?"
+
+"Joel objects," he said drily.
+
+"He--won't. But why? I don't understand. Why?"
+
+Mark laughed. "He speaks of a matter of duty, not to risk the ship."
+
+"Is there a risk?"
+
+"No." He chuckled maliciously. "As a matter of cold fact, Priss, I'm
+fearful that Joel is a bit--timid in such affairs."
+
+She flamed at him: "Afraid?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+His eyes shone. "What a loyal little bride? But--I taxed him with it.
+And--that was the word he used...."
+
+She was so angry that she beat upon Mark's great breast with her tiny
+fists. "It's not true! It's not true!" she cried. "You know...."
+
+Abruptly, Mark took fire. She was swept in his arms, clipped there,
+half-lifted from the deck to meet his lips that dipped to hers. She was
+like nothing in his grasp; she could not stir.... And from his lips, and
+circling arms, and great body the hot fire of the man flung through
+her.... She fought him.... But even in that terrific moment she knew that
+Joel had never swept or whelmed her so....
+
+She twisted her face away.... And thus, from the shadow where they stood,
+she saw Joel. He was at the top of the cabin companion, looking toward
+them, his face illumined by the light from below. And she watched for an
+instant, frozen with terror, expecting him to leap toward them and plunge
+at Mark and buffet him....
+
+Joel stood for an instant, unstirring. Then he turned, very quietly, and
+went down stairs again into the cabin....
+
+She thought, sickly, that he had shirked; he had seen, and held his
+hand....
+
+What was it Mark had said? Afraid....
+
+Mark had not seen Joel. He kissed her again. Then she twisted away from
+him, and fled below.
+
+Joel was at his desk. He did not look up at her coming; and she stood for
+an instant, behind him, watching his bent head....
+
+Then she slipped into her own cabin, and snapped the latch, and plunged
+her face in her pillow to stifle bursting sobs.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+The _Nathan Ross_ changed course that day; and the word went around the
+ship. It passed from man to man. There was whispering; and there were
+dark looks, flung toward Joel.
+
+Joel kept the deck all day, silent, and watchful, and waiting. Mark spoke
+to him once or twice, asking what he meant to do. Joel told him nothing.
+He had fought out his fight the night before; he knew himself....
+
+Mark and Finch talked together, during the morning. Joel watched them
+without comment. Later he saw Mark speak to the other mates, one by one.
+At dinner in the cabin, the mates were silent. Their eyes had something
+of shame in them, and something of venomous hate.... They already hated
+Joel, whom they planned to wrong....
+
+The day was fair, and the wind drove them smoothly. There was no work to
+be done, never a spout on the sea. Joel, watching once or twice the
+whispering groups of idle men, wished a whale might be sighted; and once
+he sent Morrell and Varde to find tasks for the men to do, and kept them
+at it through the long afternoon, scraping, scrubbing, painting....
+
+Priss kept to her cabin. When she did not appear at breakfast, Joel went
+to her door and knocked. She called to him: "I've a headache. I'm going
+to rest." He ordered that food be sent to her....
+
+He stayed on deck till late, that night; but with the coming of night the
+ship had grown quiet, and most of the men were below in the fo'c's'le. So
+at last Joel left the deck to Varde, and went below. He sat down at his
+desk and wrote up the day's log....
+
+Priss came to him there. She had been in bed; and she wore a heavy
+dressing gown over her night garments. Her hair was braided, hanging
+across her shoulders. She sat down beside the desk, and when Joel could
+fight back the misery in his eyes, he looked toward her and asked:
+
+"Is your head--better?"
+
+She said very quietly: "Joel, I want to ask you something."
+
+He wanted her sympathy so terribly, and her tone was so cool and so aloof
+that he winced; but he said: "Very well?"
+
+"Mark says he asked you to take the _Nathan Ross_ to get--the pearls he
+left on that island. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes," said Joel.
+
+"He says you would not do it."
+
+"I will not do it," Joel told her.
+
+"He says," said Priss quietly, "that you are afraid. He says that was
+your own word ... when he accused you. Is that true?"
+
+If there had been any sympathy or understanding in her voice or in her
+eyes, he would have told her ... told her that it was for his ship and
+not for himself that he was afraid. But there was not. She was so cold
+and hard.... He would not seek to justify himself to her....
+
+"Yes," he said quietly. "I used that word."
+
+She turned her eyes quickly away from his, that he might not see the pain
+in hers.... She rose to go back to her cabin....
+
+As she reached the door, some one knocked on the door that led to the
+main cabin; and without waiting for word from Joel, that door opened.
+Mark stood there. He came in, with Finch, and Varde, and old Hooper and
+young Morrell on his heels.... Priss shrank back into her cabin, closed
+the door to a crack, listened....
+
+Joel got to his feet. "What is it?" he asked.
+
+Mark bowed low, faced his brother with a cold and triumphant smile.
+"These gentlemen have asked me," he explained, "to tell you that we have
+decided to go fetch the pearls."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+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," he said. "You know, I
+wanted you in this, from the first. Your coming in will--prevent
+complications. With you in, the whole matter is very simple, and safe....
+But without you, we will be forced to take measures that may
+be--reprehensible."
+
+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.... Will you go with us; or do we go
+without you?"
+
+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 them--to avoid
+that blood-spilling you mention."
+
+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 was no further sound in the after cabin.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+Joel lay for an hour, planning what he should do. He could not yield....
+He could not yield, even though he might wish to do so; for the yielding
+would forfeit forever all control over these men, or any others. He could
+not yield....
+
+Yet he did not wish to fight; for the battle would be hopeless, with only
+death at the end for him, and it would ruin the men and lose the ship....
+Blood marks a ship with a mark that cannot be washed away. And Joel loved
+his ship; and he loved his men with something of the love of a father for
+children. Children they were. He knew them. Simple, easily led, easily
+swept by some adventurous vision....
+
+He slept, at last, dreamlessly; and in the morning, when they came to
+him, he told them what he wished to do.
+
+"Call the men aft," he said. "I'll speak to them. We'll see what their
+will is."
+
+Mark mocked him. "Ask the men, is it?" he exclaimed. "Let them vote,
+you'll be saying. Are you master of the ship, man; or just first
+selectman, that you'd call a town meeting on the high seas?"
+
+"I'll talk with the men," said Joel stubbornly.
+
+Varde strode forward angrily. "You'll talk with us," he said. "Yes or no.
+Now. What is it?"
+
+They were in the main cabin. Joel looked at Varde steadily for an
+instant; then he said: "I'm going on deck. You'll come...."
+
+Priss, in the door of the after cabin, a frightened and trembling little
+figure, called to him: "Joel. Joel. Don't...."
+
+He said, without turning: "Stay in your cabin, Priscilla." And then he
+passed between Varde and Finch, at the foot of the companion, and turned
+his back upon them and went steadily up the steep, ladder-like stair.
+Varde made a convulsive movement to seize his arm; but Mark touched the
+man, held him with his eyes, whispered something....
+
+They had left old Hooper on deck. He and Aaron Burnham were standing in
+the after house when Joel saw them. Joel said to the third mate: "Mr.
+Hooper, tell the men to lay aft."
+
+Mark had come up at Joel's heels; and Hooper looked past Joel to Mark for
+confirmation. And Mark smiled mirthlessly, and approved. "Yes, Mr.
+Hooper, call the men," he said. "We're to hold a town meeting."
+
+Old Hooper's slow brain could not follow such maneuvering; nevertheless,
+he bellowed a command. And the harpooners from the steerage, and the men
+from forecastle and fore deck came stumbling and crowding aft. The men
+stopped amidships; and Joel went toward them a little ways, until he was
+under the boat house. The mates stood about him, the harpooners a little
+to one side; and Mark leaned on the rail at the other side of the deck,
+watching, smiling.... The revolvers were in his belt; the rifles leaned
+against the after rail. He polished the butt of one of the revolvers
+while he watched and smiled....
+
+Joel said, without preamble: "Men, the mates tell me that you've heard of
+my brother's pearls."
+
+The men looked at one another, and at the mates. They were a jumbled lot,
+riff-raff of all the seas, Cape Verders, Islanders, a Cockney or two, a
+Frenchman, two or three Norsemen, and a backbone of New England stock.
+They looked at one another, and at the mates, with stupid, questioning
+eyes; and one or two of them nodded in a puzzled way, and the Cape
+Verders grinned with embarrassment. A New Englander drawled:
+
+"Aye, sir. We've heard th' tale."
+
+Joel nodded. "When my brother came aboard at Tubuai," he said quietly,
+"he proposed that we go to this island.... I do not know its position--"
+
+Mark drawled from across the deck: "You know as much as any man
+aboard--myself excepted, Joel. It's my own secret, mind."
+
+"He proposed that we go to this island," Joel pursued, "and that he and I
+go ashore and get the pearls and say nothing about them."
+
+Varde, at Joel's side, swung his head and looked bleakly at Mark Shore;
+and one or two of the men murmured. Joel said quickly: "Don't
+misunderstand. I'm not blaming him for that. You must not. The pearls are
+his. He has a right to them....
+
+"What I want you to know is that I refused to go with him and get them on
+half shares. I could have had half, and refused....
+
+"Now he has spread the story among you. And the mates say that I must go
+with you all, and get the things."
+
+He stopped, and the eyes of the men were on him; and one or two nodded,
+and a voice here and there exclaimed in approval. Joel waited until they
+were quiet again; then he said: "These--pearls--have cost life. At least
+five men and a woman died in the getting of them. If we had them aboard
+here, more of us would die; for none would be content with his share....
+
+"It's in my mind that they'd bring blood aboard the _Nathan Ross_. And I
+have no wish for that. But first--
+
+"How many of you are for going after them?"
+
+There was a murmur of assent from many throats; and Joel looked from man
+to man. "Most of you, at least," he said. "Is there any man against
+going?"
+
+There may have been, but no man spoke; and over Joel's face passed a
+weary little shadow of pain. For a long moment he stood in the sun,
+studying them; and they saw his lips were white. Then he said quietly:
+
+"You shall not go. The _Nathan Ross_ goes on about her proper matters.
+The pearls stay where they are."
+
+He shifted his weight, looked quickly toward his brother.... He was
+poised for battle. By the very force of his word, there was a chance he
+might prevail. He watched the men, in whose hands the answer lay. If he
+could hold them....
+
+Hands clamped his arms, and Mark smiled across the deck. Finch and old
+Hooper on one side, Varde and Morrell on the other. And after the first
+wrench of his surprise, he knew it was hopeless to struggle, and stood
+quietly. Mark strolled across the deck, smiling coldly.
+
+"If you'll not go, Joel, you must be taken," he said. And to the mates:
+"Bring back his arms."
+
+Joel felt the cord slipped through his elbows and drawn tight and looped
+and made secure. Old Aaron Burnham pushed forward and tugged at them; and
+Joel heard him say: "They'll hold him fast, Captain Shore. Like a trussed
+fowl, sir. That he is...."
+
+"Captain Shore?" That would be Mark, come into command of the ship again.
+And Aaron added: "I've set the bolt on his cabin door, sir. Not five
+minutes gone."
+
+Mark laughed. "Good enough, Aaron. You and Varde take him down. Varde,
+you'll stay in the after cabin. If he tries to get free, summon me.
+And--treat Mrs. Shore with the utmost courtesy."
+
+Varde was at Joel's side; and Joel saw the twist of his smile at Mark's
+last word. For a moment, thought of Priss left Joel sick. He thrust the
+thought aside....
+
+They took him down into the main cabin; Varde ahead, then Joel, and old
+Aaron close behind, his hand on Joel's elbow. Priss met them in the after
+cabin, crouching in a corner, white and still, her hands at her throat.
+Her eyes met his for an instant, before Varde led him toward his own
+cabin. Aaron, behind, looked toward Priss; and the girl whispered
+hoarsely:
+
+"Is he--hurt?"
+
+"He is not," said Aaron grimly. "We were most gentle with the man; and he
+made no struggle at all...."
+
+Varde thrust Joel into the little cabin where his bunk was; and Joel
+heard the snick of a new-set bolt on the outer side of the door. He was
+alone, bound fast....
+
+Before he left the deck, he had heard Mark cry an order to the man at the
+wheel. The telltale in the after cabin ceiling told him the _Nathan Ross_
+had changed her course again ... for Mark's island.... In the face of
+men, he had held himself steady and calm.... But now, alone in his cabin,
+he strained at his bonds, lips cracking over set teeth. He strained and
+tugged.... Hopeless....
+
+No! Not hopeless! He felt them yield a little, a little more.... Then,
+with a tiny snap of sound, the coils were loose, and he shook the cords
+down over his wrists and hands. He caught them as they fell across his
+fingers, lest the sound of their fall might warn Varde, in the cabin
+outside his door; and--he was still stupefied by the surprise of this
+deliverance--he lifted the broken bonds and examined them....
+
+A single strand had yielded, loosing all the rest. And where it had
+broken, Joel saw, it had been sliced all but through, with a keen blade.
+
+Who? His thoughts raced back over the brief minutes of his bondage. Who?
+
+No other but Aaron Burnham could have had the chance and the good will.
+Old Aaron.... And Aaron's knives were always razor sharp. Drawn once
+across the tight-stretched cord....
+
+Aaron had freed him. Aaron....
+
+He remembered something else. Aaron's words to Mark on deck. "I've set
+the bolt on his cabin door...."
+
+Aaron had set the new bolt that was the only bar between him and the
+after cabin, where Varde stood watch. Aaron had set the bolt; and Aaron
+had cut his bonds. Therefore--the bolt must be flimsy, easily forced
+away. That would be Aaron's plan. A single thrust would open the way....
+
+He turned toward the door; then caught himself, drew back, dropped on the
+bunk and lay there, planning what he must do.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+The discovery of Aaron's loyalty had been immensely heartening to Joel.
+If Aaron were loyal, there might be others.... Must be.... Not all men
+are false....
+
+He wondered who they would be; he went over the men, one by one, from
+mate to humblest foremast hand. Finch and Varde were surely against him.
+Old Hooper--he and Aaron were cronies, and the other mates had left
+Hooper somewhat out of their movements thus far. Old Hooper might be,
+give him his chance, on Joel's side....
+
+Old Hooper, and Aaron. Two. Dick Morrell? A boy, hot with the wonder and
+glamor of Mark's tale. Easily swung to either side. Joel thought he would
+not swing too desperately to the lawless side. But--he could not be
+counted on. What others were there?
+
+Joel had brought his own harpooner from the _Martin Wilkes_. A big Island
+black. A decent man.... A chance. Besides him, there were three men who
+had served Asa Worthen long among the foremast hands. Uncertain
+quantities. Chances everywhere....
+
+But--he must strike quickly. There was no time to sound them out. When
+his dinner was brought at noon, his broken bonds would be discovered.
+They would be more careful thereafter. Three hours lay before him....
+
+He set himself to listen with all his ears; to guess at what was going on
+above decks, and so choose his moment. He must wait as long as it was
+safe to wait; he must wait till men's bloods ran less hot after the
+crisis of the morning. He must wait till sober second thought was upon
+them....
+
+But there was always the chance to fear that Mark might come down. He
+could not wait too long....
+
+He could hear feet moving on the deck above his head. The _Nathan Ross_
+had run into rougher weather with her change of course; the wind was
+stiffening, and now and then a whisk of spray came aboard. He heard Jim
+Finch's bellowing commands.... Heard Mark's laughter. Mark and Jim were
+astern, fairly over his head.
+
+There were men in the main cabin. The scrape of their feet, the murmur of
+their voices came to him. Dick Morrell and old Hooper, perhaps....
+
+It was through these men that Joel's moment came. Finch, on deck, shouted
+down to them.... Mark had decided to shorten sail, ease the strain on the
+old masts. Joel heard Morrell and Hooper go up to the deck....
+
+That would mean most of the men aloft.... The decks would be fairly
+clear. His chance....
+
+He wished he could know where Varde sat; but he could not be sure of
+that, and he could not wait to guess by listening. He caught up a blanket
+from his bunk, held it open in his hands, drew back--and threw himself
+against the cabin door.
+
+It opened so easily that he overbalanced, all but fell. The screws had
+been set in punch holes so large that the threads scarce took hold at
+all. Joel stumbled out--saw Varde on the cushioned bench which ran across
+the stern. The mate was reading, a book from Joel's narrow shelf. At
+sight of Joel, he was for an instant paralyzed with surprise....
+
+That instant was long enough for Joel. He swept the blanket down upon the
+man, smothering his cries with fold on fold; and he grappled Varde, and
+crushed him, and beat at his head with his fists until the mate's
+spasmodic struggles slackened. Priss had heard the sounds of combat,
+swept out of her cabin, bent above them. He looked up and saw her; and he
+said quietly:
+
+"Get back into your place."
+
+She cried pitifully: "I want to help. Please...."
+
+He shook his head. "This is my task. Quick."
+
+She fled....
+
+He lifted Varde and carried him back to the cabin where he himself had
+been captive; and there, with the cords that had bound his own arms, he
+bound Varde, wrist and ankle; and he stripped away the blanket, and
+stuffed into Varde's mouth a heavy, woolen sock, and tied it there with a
+handkerchief.... Varde's eyes flickered open at the last; and Joel said
+to him:
+
+"I must leave you here for the present. You will do well to lie quietly."
+
+He left the man lying on the floor, and went out into the after cabin and
+salvaged the bolt and screws that had been sent flying by his thrust. He
+put the bolt back in place, pushed the screws into the holes, bolted the
+door.... No trace remained of his escape....
+
+Priss stood in her own door. Without looking at her, he opened the door
+into the main cabin. That apartment was empty, as he had expected. The
+companion stair led to the deck....
+
+But he could not go up that way. Mark and Jim Finch were within reach of
+the top of the stair; he would be at a disadvantage, coming up to them
+from below. He must reach the deck before they saw him.
+
+He crossed the cabin to a lockfast, and opened it, and took out the two
+pairs of heavy ship's irons that lay there. Spring handcuffs that locked
+without a key.... He put one pair in each pocket of his coat.
+
+There was a seldom used door that opened from the main cabin into a
+passage which led in turn to the steerage where the harpooners slept.
+Joel stepped to this door, slipped the bolt, entered the passage, and
+closed the door behind him.
+
+It was black dark, where he stood. The passage was unlighted; and the
+swinging lamp in the steerage did not send its rays this far. The _Nathan
+Ross_ was heeling and bucking heavily in the cross seas, and Joel chose
+his footing carefully, and moved forward along the passage, his hands
+braced against the wall on either side. The way was short, scarce half a
+dozen feet; but he was long in covering the distance, and he paused
+frequently to listen. He had no wish to encounter the harpooners in their
+narrow quarters....
+
+He heard, at last, the muffled sound of a snore; and so covered the last
+inches of his way more quickly. When he was able to look into the place,
+he saw that two of the men were in their bunks, apparently asleep. The
+black whom he had brought from the _Nathan Ross_ was not there. Joel was
+glad to think he was on deck; glad to hope for the chance of his help....
+
+With steps so slow he seemed like a shadow in the semi-darkness, he
+crossed to the foot of the ladder that led to the deck. The men in their
+bunks still slept. He began to climb.... The ship was rolling heavily, so
+that he was forced to grip the ladder tightly.... One of the sleepers
+stirred, and Joel froze where he stood, and watched, and waited for
+endless seconds till the man became quiet once more.
+
+He climbed till his head was on a level with the deck still hidden by the
+sides of the scuttle at the top of the ladder. And there he poised
+himself; for the last steps to the deck must be made in a single rush, so
+quickly that interference would be impossible....
+
+He made them; one ... three.... He stood upon the deck, looked aft....
+
+Mark and Jim Finch stood there, not ten feet away from him. Finch's back
+was turned, but Mark saw Joel instantly; and Joel, watching, saw Mark's
+mouth widen in a broad and mischievously delighted smile.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+At the moment when Joel reached the deck, the other men aboard the
+_Nathan Ross_ were widely scattered.
+
+Varde, the second mate, he had left tied and helpless in the cabin. Two
+of the four harpooners were below in their bunks, asleep. The greater
+part of one watch was likewise below, in the fo'c's'le; and the rest of
+the crew, under Dick Morrell's eye, were shortening sail. In the after
+part of the ship there were only Mark Shore, Finch, a foremast hand at
+the wheel, old Aaron Burnham, and the cook. Of these, Mark, Jim, and the
+man at the wheel were in sight when Joel appeared; and only Mark had seen
+him.
+
+Joel saw his brother smile, and stood for an instant, poised to meet an
+attack. None came. He swept his eyes forward and saw that he need fear no
+immediate interference from that direction; and so he went quietly toward
+the men astern. The broad back of Jim Finch was within six feet of
+him....
+
+What moved Mark Shore in that moment, it is hard to say. It may have been
+the reckless spirit of the man, willing to wait and watch and see what
+Joel would do; or it may have been the distaste he must have felt for Jim
+Finch's slavish adulation; or it may have been an unadmitted admiration
+for Joel's courage....
+
+At any rate, while Joel advanced, Mark stood still and smiled; and he
+gave Finch no warning, so that when Joel touched the mate's elbow, Finch
+whirled with a startled gasp of surprise and consternation, and in his
+first panic, tried to back away. Still Mark made no move. The man at the
+wheel uttered one exclamation, looked quickly at Mark for commands, and
+took his cue from his leader. Finch was left alone and unsupported to
+face Joel.
+
+Joel did not pursue the retreating mate. He stepped to the rail, where
+the whaleboats hung, and called to Finch quietly:
+
+"Mr. Finch, step here."
+
+Finch had retreated until his shoulders were braced against the wall of
+the after house. He leaned there, hands outspread against the wall behind
+him, staring at Joel with goggling eyes. And Joel said again:
+
+"Come here, Mr. Finch."
+
+Joel's composure, and the determination and the confidence in his tone,
+frightened Finch. He clamored suddenly: "How did he get here, Captain
+Shore? Jump him. Tie him up--you--Aaron...."
+
+He appealed to the man at the wheel, and to old Aaron, who had appeared
+in the doorway of the tiny compartment where his tools were stored.
+Neither stirred. Mark Shore, chuckling, stared at Finch and at Joel; and
+Finch cried:
+
+"Captain Shore. Come on. Let's get him...."
+
+Joel said for the third time: "Come here, Finch."
+
+Finch held out a hand to Mark, appealingly. Mark shook his head. "This is
+your affair, Finch," he said. "Go get him, yourself. He's waiting for
+you. And--you're twice his size."
+
+Give Finch his due. With even moral support behind him, he would have
+overwhelmed Joel in a single rush. Without that support, he would still
+have faced any reasonable attack. But there was something baffling about
+Joel's movements, his tones, the manner of his command, that stupefied
+Finch. He felt that he was groping in the dark. The mutiny must have
+collapsed.... It may have been only a snare to trap him.... He was
+alone--against Joel, and with none to support him....
+
+Finch's courage was not of the solitary kind. He took one slow step
+toward Joel, and in that single step was surrender.
+
+Joel stood still, but his eyes held the big man's; and he said curtly:
+"Quickly, Finch."
+
+Finch took another lagging step, another....
+
+Joel dropped his hand in his coat pocket and drew out a pair of irons. He
+tossed them toward Finch; and the mate shrank, and the irons struck him
+in the body and fell to the deck. He stared down at them, stared at Joel.
+
+Joel said: "Pick them up. Snap one on your right wrist. Then put your
+arms around the davit, there, and snap the other...."
+
+Finch shook his head in a bewildered way, as though trying to understand;
+and abruptly, a surge of honest anger swept him, and he stiffened, and
+wheeled to rush at Joel. But Joel made no move either to retreat or to
+meet the attack; and Finch, like a huge and baffled bear, slumped again,
+and slowly stooped, and gathered up the handcuffs....
+
+With them in his hands, he looked again at Joel; and for a long moment
+their eyes battled. Then Joel stepped forward, touched Finch lightly on
+the arm, and guided him toward the rail. Finch was absolutely
+unresisting. The sap had gone out of him....
+
+Joel drew the man's arms around the davit, and snapped the irons upon his
+wrist. Finch was fast there, out of whatever action there was to come.
+And Joel's lips tightened with relief. He stepped back....
+
+He saw, then, that some of the crew had heard, and three or four of them
+were gathering amidships, near the try works. The two harpooners were
+there; and one of them was that black whom Joel had brought from the
+_Martin Wilkes_, and in whom he placed some faith. He eyed these men for
+a moment, wondering whether they were nerved to strike....
+
+But they did not stir, they did not move toward him; and he guessed they
+were as stupefied as Finch by what had happened. So long as the men aft
+allowed him to go free, they would not interfere. They did not
+understand; and without understanding, they were helpless.
+
+He turned his back on them, and looked toward Mark.
+
+Mark Shore had watched Joel's encounter with Finch in frank enjoyment.
+Such incidents pleased him; they appealed to his love for the bold and
+daring facts of life.... He had smiled.
+
+But now Joel saw that he had stepped back a little, perhaps by accident.
+He was behind the man at the wheel, behind the spot where Aaron Burnham
+stood. He was standing almost against the after rail, in the narrow
+corridor that runs fore and aft through the after house....
+
+The pistols were in his belt, and the two rifles leaned on the rail at
+his side. Mark himself was standing at ease, his arms relaxed, his hands
+resting lightly on his hips and his feet apart. He swayed to the movement
+of the ship, balancing with the unconscious ease of long custom.
+
+Joel went toward him, not slowly, yet without haste. He passed old Aaron
+with no word, passed the wheelman, and faced his brother. They were
+scarce two feet apart when he stopped; and there were no others near
+enough to hear, above the slashing of the seas and the whistle of the
+wind, his low words.
+
+He said: "Mark, you've made a mistake. A bad mistake. In--starting this
+mutiny."
+
+Mark smiled slowly. "That's a hard word, Joel. It's in my mind that if
+this is mutiny, it's a very peaceful model."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is just that," said Joel. "It is that, and it is also a
+mistake. And--you are wise man enough to see this. There is still time to
+remedy the thing. It can be forgotten."
+
+Mark chuckled. "If that is true, you've a most convenient memory, Joel."
+
+Joel's cheeks flushed slowly, and he answered: "I am anxious to
+forget--whatever shames the House of Shore."
+
+Mark threw back his head and laughed aloud. "Bless you, boy," he
+exclaimed. "'Tis no shame to you to have fallen victim to our numbers."
+But there was a heat in his tones that told Joel he was shaken. And Joel
+insisted steadily:
+
+"It was not my own shame I feared."
+
+"Mine, then?" Mark challenged.
+
+"Aye," said Joel. "Yours."
+
+Mark bent toward him with a mocking flare of anger in his eyes; and he
+said harshly: "You've spoken too much for a small man. Be silent. And go
+below."
+
+Joel waited for an instant; then his shoulders stirred as though he chose
+a hard course, and he held out his hand and said quietly: "Give me the
+guns, Mark."
+
+Mark stared at him; and he laughed aloud. "You're immense, boy," he
+applauded. "The cool nerve of you...." His eyes warmed with frank
+admiration. "Joel, hark to this," he cried, and jerked his head toward
+the captive Finch. "You've ripped the innards out of that mate of mine.
+I'll give you the job. You're mate of the _Nathan Ross_ and I'm proud to
+have you...."
+
+"I am captain of the _Nathan Ross_," said Joel. "And you are my brother,
+and a--mutineer. Give me the guns."
+
+Mark threw up his hand angrily. "You'll not hear reason. Then--go below,
+and stay there. You...."
+
+There are few men who can stand flat-footed and still hit a crushing
+blow; but Joel did just this. When Mark began to speak, Joel's hands had
+been hanging limply at his sides. On Mark's last word, Joel's right hand
+whipped up as smoothly as a whip snaps; and it smacked on Mark's lean jaw
+with much the sound a whip makes. It struck just behind the point of the
+jaw, on the left hand side; and Mark's head jerked back, and his knees
+sagged, and he tottered weakly forward into Joel's very arms.
+
+Joel's hands were at the other's belt, even as Mark fell. He brought out
+the revolvers, then let Mark slip down to the deck; and he stepped over
+the twitching body of his brother, and caught up the two rifles, and
+dropped them, with the revolvers, over the after rail.
+
+Mark's splendid body had already begun to recover from the blow; he was
+struggling to sit up, and he saw what Joel did, and cried aloud: "Don't
+be a fool, boy. Keep them.... Hell!" For the weapons were gone. Joel
+turned, and looked down at him; and he said quietly:
+
+"While I can help it, there'll be no blood shed on my ship."
+
+Mark swept an arm toward the waist of the ship, and Joel looked and saw a
+growing knot of angry men there. "See them, do you?" Mark demanded.
+"They're drunk for blood. It's out of your hands, Joel. You've thrown
+your ace away. Now, boy--what will you do?"
+
+The men began to surge aft, along the deck.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+THE story of that battle upon the tumbling decks of the _Nathan Ross_ was
+to be told and re-told at many a gam upon the whaling grounds. It was
+such a story as strong men love; a story of overwhelming odds, of epic
+combat, of splendid death where blood ran hot and strong....
+
+There were a full score of men in the group that came aft toward Joel.
+And as they came, others, running from the fo'c's'le and dropping from
+the rigging, joined them. Every man was drunk with the vision of wealth
+that he had built upon Mark Shore's story. The thing had grown and grown
+in the telling; it had fattened on the greed native in the men; and it
+was a monstrous thing now, and one that would not be denied.... The men,
+as they moved aft, made grumbling sounds with their half-caught breath;
+and these sounds blended into a roaring growl like the growl of a beast.
+
+To face these men stood Joel. For an instant, he was alone. Then, without
+word, old Aaron took his stand beside his captain. Aaron held gripped in
+both hands an adze. Its edge was sharp enough to slice hard wood like
+cheese.... And at Joel's other side, the cook. A round man, with greasy
+traces of his craft upon his countenance. He carried a heavy cleaver.
+There is an ancient feud between galley and fo'c's'le; and the men
+greeting the cook's coming with a hungry cry of delight....
+
+Joel glanced at these new allies, and saw their weapons. He took the adze
+from Aaron, the cleaver from the other; and he turned and hurled them
+behind him, over the rail. And in the moment's silence that followed on
+this action, he called to the men:
+
+"Go back to your places."
+
+They growled at him; they were wordless, but they knew the thing they
+desired. The cook complained at Joel's elbow: "I could use that cleaver."
+
+"I'll not have blood spilled," Joel told him. "If there's fighting, it
+will be with fists...."
+
+And Mark touched Joel lightly on the shoulder, and took his place beside
+him. He was smiling, a twisted smile above the swollen lump upon his jaw.
+He said lightly: "If it's fists, Joel--I think I'm safest to fight beside
+you."
+
+Joel looked up at him with a swift glance, and he brushed his hand across
+his eyes, and nodded. "I counted on that, Mark--in the last, long run,"
+he said. Mark gripped his arm and pressed it; and in that moment the
+long, unspoken enmity between the brothers died forever. They faced the
+men....
+
+One howled like a wolf: "He's done us. Done us in."
+
+And another: "They're going to hog it. Them two...."
+
+The little sea of scowling, twisting faces moved, it surged forward....
+The men charged, more than a score, to overwhelm the four.
+
+In the moment before, Joel had marked young Dick Morrell, at one side,
+twisted with indecision; and in the instant when the men moved, he
+called: "With us, Mr. Morrell."
+
+It was command, not question; and the boy answered with a shout and a
+blow.... On the flank of the men, he swept toward them. And Joel's
+harpooner, and one of Asa Worthen's old men formed a triumvirate that
+fought there....
+
+They were thus seven against a score. But they were seven good men. And
+the score were a mob....
+
+It was fists, at the first, as Joel had sworn. The first, charging line
+broke upon them; and old Aaron was swept back, fighting like a cat, and
+crushed and bruised and left helpless in an instant. The fat cook dodged
+into his galley, and snatched a knife and held the door there, prodding
+the flanks of those who swirled past his stronghold. Joel dropped the
+first man who came to him; and likewise Mark. But another twined 'round
+Joel's legs, and he could not kick them free, and there was no time to
+stoop and tear the man away.
+
+He and Mark kept back to back for a moment; but Mark was not a defensive
+fighter. He could not stand still and wait attack; and when his second
+man fell, he leaped the twisting body and charged into the clump of them.
+His black hair tossed, his eye was flaming; and his long arms worked like
+pistons and like flails. He became the center of a group that writhed and
+dissolved, and formed again. His head rose above them all.
+
+The man who gripped Joel's legs, freed one hand and began to beat at
+Joel's body from below. Joel could not endure the blows; he bent, and
+took a rain of buffets on his head and shoulders while he caught the
+attacker by the throat, and lifted him up and flung him away. He
+staggered free, set his back against the galley wall; and when he shifted
+to avoid another attack, he found his place in the galley door. The fat
+cook crouched behind him, and Joel heard him shout: "I'll watch your
+legs, Cap'n. Give 'em the iron, sir. Give 'em th' iron."
+
+Once Joel, looking down, saw the cook's knife play like a flame between
+his knees.... None would seek to pin him there.
+
+The black harpooner fought his way across the deck to Joel's side. He
+left a trail of twisting bodies behind him. And he was grinning with a
+huge delight. "Now, sar, we'll do 'em, sar," he screamed. The sweat
+poured down his black cheeks; and his mouth was cut and bleeding. His
+shirt was torn away from one shoulder and arm....
+
+"Good man," said Joel, between his panting blows. "Good man!"
+
+Across the deck, one who had run forward for a handspike swept it down on
+young Dick Morrel's brown head. Morrell dodged, but the blow cracked his
+shoulder and swept him to the deck. The man who had fought beside him
+spraddled the prostrate body, and jerked an iron from the boat on the
+davits at his back and held it like a lance, to keep all men at a
+distance. A sheath knife sped, and twisted in the air, and struck him
+butt first above the eye, so that he fell limply and lay still....
+
+Mark Shore had been forced against the rail near where Jim Finch was
+pinned. Big Finch was howling and weeping with fright; and a little man
+of the crew with a rat's mean soul who hated Finch had found his hour. He
+was leaping about the mate, lashing him mercilessly with a heavy end of
+rope; and Finch screamed and twisted beneath the blows.
+
+So swiftly had the tumult of the battle arisen that all these things had
+come to pass before the harpooners asleep in the steerage could wake and
+reach the deck. When they climbed the ladder, and looked about them, they
+saw Morrell and his ally prostrate at one side, Joel and the cook holding
+the galley door against a half dozen men; and big Mark's towering head
+amidst a knot of half a dozen more. And one of the harpooners backed away
+toward the waist of the ship, watchful and wary, taking no part in the
+affair.
+
+But the other ... He was a Cape Verder, black blood crossed with Spanish;
+and Mark Shore had tied him to a davit, once upon a time, and lashed him
+till he bled, for faults committed. He saw Mark now, and his eyes shone
+greedily.
+
+This man crouched, and crossed to a boat--his own--and chose his own
+harpoon. He twisted off the wooden sheath that covered the point, and
+flung it across the deck; and he poised the heavy iron in his hands, and
+started slowly toward Mark, moving on tiptoe, lightly as a cat.
+
+Mark saw him coming; and the big man shouted joyfully: "Why, Silva! Come,
+you...."
+
+He flung aside the men encircling him. One among them held the handspike
+with which he had struck down Morrell; and Mark smote this man in the
+body, and when he doubled, wrenched the great club from his hands. He
+swung this, leaped to meet the harpooner.
+
+They came together in mid-deck. The great handspike whistled through the
+air, and down. An egg-shell crunched beneath a heel.... Silva dropped.
+
+Mark stood for an instant above him; and in that instant, every man saw
+the harpoon which Silva had driven home. Its heavy shaft hung, dragging
+on the deck; it hung from Mark's breast, high in the right shoulder; and
+the point stood out six inches behind his shoulder blade. It seemed to
+drag at him; he bent slowly beneath its weight, and drooped, and lay at
+last across the body of the man whose skull the handspike had crushed.
+
+There were, at that moment, about a dozen of the men still on their feet;
+but in the instant of their paralyzed dismay, two things struck them; two
+furies ... Dick Morrell, tottering on unsteady feet, brandishing a
+razor-tipped lance full ten feet long. He came upon the men from the
+flank, shouting; and Joel, when he saw his brother fall, left his shelter
+in the galley door and swept upon them. The fat cook, with the knife,
+fought nobly at his side.
+
+The men broke; they fled headlong, forward; and Joel and Morrell and the
+cook pursued them, through the waist, past the trypots, till they tumbled
+down the fo'c's'le scuttle and huddled in their bunks and howled....
+
+A dozen limp bodies sprawled upon the deck, bodies of moaning men with
+heads that would ache and pound for days.... Joel left Morrell to guard
+the fo'c's'le, and went back among them, going swiftly from man to
+man....
+
+Silva was dead. The others would not die--save only Mark. The iron had
+pierced his chest, had ripped a lung....
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+He died that night, smiling to the last. He was able to speak, now and
+then, before the end; and Joel and Priss were near him, at his side,
+soothing him, listening....
+
+He asked Joel, once: "Shall I tell you--where--pearls..."
+
+Joel shook his head. "I do not want them," he said. "They have enough
+blood to turn them crimson. Let them lie."
+
+And Mark smiled, and nodded faintly. "Right, boy. Let them lie...." And
+his eyes shone up at them; and he whispered presently: "That was--a fight
+to tell about, Joel...."
+
+In those hours beside Mark, Priss completed the transition from girl to
+woman. She was very sober, and quiet; but she did not weep, and she
+answered Mark's smiles. And Mark, watching her, seemed to remember
+something, toward the last. Joel saw his eyes beckon; and he bent above
+his brother, and Mark whispered weakly:
+
+"Treasure--Priss, Joel. She's--worth all.... Kissed her, but she fought
+me...."
+
+Joel gripped his brother's hand. "I knew there was no--harm in you--or in
+her," he said. "Don't trouble, Mark...."
+
+When old Aaron had stitched the canvas shroud, they laid Mark on the
+cutting stage; and Joel read over him from the Book, while the men stood
+silent by. Chastened men, heads bandaged, arms in slings ... Big Jim
+Finch at one side, shamed of face. Varde, sullen as ever, but with
+hopelessness writ large upon him. Morrell, and old Hooper....
+
+Joel finished, and he closed the Book. "Unto the deep...." The cutting
+stage tilted, and the wave leaped and caught its burden and bore it
+softly down.... The sun was shining, the sea danced, the wind was warm on
+fair Priscilla's cheek....
+
+And as though, the brief, dramatic chapter being ended, another must at
+once begin, the masthead man presently called down to Joel the long,
+droning hail:
+
+"Ah-h-h-h! Blow-w-w-w-w!"
+
+And he flung his arm toward where a misty spout sparkled in the sun a
+mile or two away. Minutes later, the boats took water; and the _Nathan
+Ross_ was about her business again.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+Joel wrote in the log that night, with Priscilla beside him, her fingers
+in his hair. Priscilla had been very humble, till Joel took her in his
+arms and comforted her....
+
+He set down the ship's position; he recorded their capture, that day, of
+a great bull cachalot; and then:
+
+"... This day Mark Shore was buried at sea. He died late last night, from
+wounds received when he fought valiantly to put down the mutiny of the
+crew. Fourth brother of the House of Shore...."
+
+And below, the ancient and enduring epitaph:
+
+                   "'All the brothers were valiant.'"
+
+Priscilla, reading over his shoulder, pointed to this line and whispered
+sorrowfully: "But I--called you coward, Joel." He looked up at her, and
+smiled a little. "I know better now," she said. "So--give me the pen ...
+And close your eyes...."
+
+He heard the scratch of steel on paper; and when he opened his eyes again
+he saw that Priscilla had underscored, with three deep strokes, the first
+word of that honorable line.
+
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT***
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