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....