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?”