CHAPTER XV
AT dawn Black Pawl rose and dressed himself. Though he had not slept, he was not weary. Strength had flowed into him during the night, and happiness, and peace, and a great love of life. When light began to come through the cabin ports, he felt a hunger to be on deck, with the sea wide about him, and the wind upon his cheek. He wanted to meet the new sun with something like a prayer; he felt this new day of the world was also a new day in his life.
He dressed slowly. There was a certain lassitude upon him. He was strong, but he enjoyed tasting this strength in sips. He made no quick motions. He buttoned his garments with steady, sure fingers; he took a certain joy in merely watching the perfect functioning of these fingers of his, and he thought how wonderful an instrument is the human hand.
He liked the rough feeling of his shirt about his throat. He liked the snug belt that circled his waist. There was comfort in the harsh strength of the familiar shoes he drew upon his feet. He washed himself, and he combed and brushed his hair. He was accustomed to wear his coat loose, his shirt open at the throat; but this day he buttoned the shirt and put on a tie that he had not worn for months, and he buttoned his coat about him. He laughed at himself for doing these things. “Like a bridegroom going to his wedding,” he said cheerfully. “But why not, Black Pawl? Why not?”
He had marked a hole in his woolen socks when he drew them on; and he thought Ruth would mend his socks for him now. That would be a pleasant thing. All life lay pleasantly before him—marred only by Red Pawl, his son.
He would not think of Red Pawl now. That issue might be postponed; this day was for happiness. Happiness was a new thing to Black Pawl. He wished to drink deep of it.
He went out of his cabin, and paused in the doorway and looked back at the familiar belongings. This was his farewell to them; and it may have been the man felt this was true, for he looked longer than the simple fittings of the cabin seemed to warrant, and there was a wistful twist to his smile.
In the main cabin he stopped again and looked about. Ruth’s door was closed. She would be still asleep. He wanted to go in and kiss her as she slept, but he would not. Dan Darrin was in his cabin also. Asleep, no doubt! And—Black Pawl smiled; he could hear the missionary snoring softly. Even the most spiritual of men may snore. Black Pawl chuckled at the thought.
There was a book on the cabin table, which Ruth had been reading the night before. Black Pawl picked it up and looked at it, and laid it down again. His eyes roved around the familiar place. He was loath to leave it. He went reluctantly to the companion at last, and climbed to the deck.