It was no more than three paces from where she stood to her cabin door. But as she reached the door, she heard him moving; and she turned in the doorway and looked at him.
He was coming toward her slowly; his eyes were bitter and angry, and he stumbled as he came.
She waited in the open door. Within arm’s-length of her he stopped, swaying. He felt himself checked by a spiritual wall about her that barred him out. For a space he could not stir. He did not speak; she said no word. For seconds they stood thus, unmoving.
Then Black Pawl cursed. “Hell’s fire!” he muttered, and dropping his great hands upon her shoulders, he pushed her slowly backward, into her narrow cabin. Once inside, he thrust her from him, and she caught and steadied herself against the cabin wall. He swung the door shut, then setting his shoulders against it, looked at her.
She met his eyes without flinching.
“Well, are you still so brave!” he demanded hoarsely, his lips twisting in a mocking smile.
“I am not afraid,” she answered.
His brows knit. He asked dully: “What do you mean, child? How can you say that? How can you help fearing? Why are you not afraid?”
She dropped her eyes, as though she were thinking; and after a little she looked up at him again. “I’ll tell you, if I can, Cap’n Pawl,” she said.
“Tell on,” he bade her. “Tell on. There’s time.”