He asked her this day how she liked the voyage. She told him she was happy. This was not true. She was too sorry for him to be happy. He reminded her of the stiff gale they had fought, at the time of his battle with his son. “Were you frightened?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I was not afraid.”
He touched her hand suddenly, and held it, chuckling. “You’re a pretty nervy thing, for a woman, seems to me.”
“I am not often afraid,” she said.
He caught her shoulder and turned her toward him then. “Ever afraid of me?” he asked.
She smiled. “No.”
“Not even when I grabbed that kiss—in the cabin?”
“No, I could never be afraid of you,” she told him, eyes meeting his bravely.
Dan Darrin came just then, with a question, and while he and the Captain spoke together, the girl moved away and went below. Black Pawl, watching her, scarce heard what Darrin was saying. Damn the girl, so clean and brave and good! She’d best be afraid of him. He thought he might teach her that trick, some day.
When Dan was gone, he cursed himself for a black dog because of his thought. But—the drink was in him, and his heart was sick for Red Pawl, and there was nothing in the world ahead.