She smiled at him and said at once: “Of course, if you want me.”
“I do,” he told her.
The missionary hesitated, as though he were unwilling to leave them together. “Shall I stay?” he suggested.
“No; no, go—you and your God!” Black Pawl told him harshly. The missionary looked toward Ruth; she nodded, and he stepped down into the boat.
They watched the two craft pull away from the schooner’s side. And Black Pawl saw that Spiess was at the after oar in Red Pawl’s boat; and he saw Red lean to whisper to the man. The Captain’s lips twisted with pain at the sight, as though Red had stabbed him. He knew, by now, that Red meant murder. Well, then, why did he not strike?
“Dan’s boat is going faster; he’s beating,” said Ruth, at his side; and Black Pawl looked down at her, and his eyes were hot. He glanced along the deck. There were two men forward; the cook was working in the litter and wreckage of his galley. Save for these three, he and the girl were the only persons left upon the Deborah.
Sick of life, sick of decency, sick of hope and striving, he surrendered to the devils that besieged him. Damn the girl! She should learn to be afraid before he was done with her.
“Come below,” he said to her. “I’m a mind to lie down.”
CHAPTER XI
WHEN Black Pawl said, “Come below,” his voice was harsh and sick and broken. The girl looked up at him briefly, her eyes sober and wistful; and then she smiled and asked: