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.