He heard Marvin come up from the storeroom, and speak to the girl again. Here at least was fair target for his wrath. He stormed to his feet and toward the man. “On deck, you swipe!” he roared. “Get out o’ my sight.”
Marvin scuttled up the companion; and Black Pawl turned again to where the girl sat, and looked down at her with black and knitted brows. His hair was tumbled, his cheeks were lined, his eyes were sunken. He trembled weakly where he stood, and she was infinitely sorry for him; and stood up to face him, and said softly:
“Come, you’re tired. Do let me put you to sleep.”
“I tell you, I’m not minded to sleep,” he answered thickly.
“No matter,” she smiled. “You will be. It’s what you need.” She touched his arm. He flung her hand away.
“Mark this,” he said. “You’ve not understood what I’ve been telling you. I say Dan Darrin’s not to have you while I live. Is that clear to you?”
Faintly troubled, she said: “You’re sick, and tired. You don’t know what you say. Please lie down.”
“I do know what I say. I do mean what I say. This is my ship, the Deborah. Nothing passes here save with my will. I say, this matter of Dan is to be forgotten—till I say the word.”
She answered, eyes braving his: “You’re a strong man, Cap’n Pawl. And—master of the ship. But there are some things beyond your command. I am one of them; my heart the other. We’re Dan’s.”
“You’re overly brave,” he sneered.