That moment was a turning point in Dan'l Tobey's life. Before, there had been a measure of good in the man; he had loved Faith well and decently.... His capacity for mischief had been curbed. But in those seconds while he studied Faith's countenance as she listened to Brander's singing, he saw something that curdled the venom in the man. When he stepped nearer, and she heard him, he was a different Dan'l.... The stocky, round-faced, freckled, sandy young man had become a power for evil.... He was to use this power thenceforward without scruple....
Faith smiled at him; he said pleasantly: "The man sings well."
"Yes," Faith agreed. "I like it."
Then Dan'l turned back to his tasks, and Faith slipped down into the cabin where Noll was, and offered to read aloud to her husband. Noll sleepily agreed; he went to sleep, presently, while she read. When she saw he was asleep, she dropped her book in her lap and studied the sleeping man; and suddenly her eyes filled, so that she went down on her knees beside him, and laid her arms gently about his shoulders, and whispered pleadingly:
"Oh, Noll, Noll...."
Roy Kilcup, coming up from the cabin one day, saw Dan'l Tobey strike a man. He saw this at the moment his head rose above the companion. Dan'l and the man were amidships, and Dan'l cuffed him and drove him forward.
Dan'l was not given to blows; he seldom needed to use them. So Roy was curious. He went forward along the deck, and touched Dan'l's elbow, and pointed after the cuffed man and asked huskily:
"What's the matter? What did he do?"
Dan'l had not seen Roy coming. He took a moment to think before he answered; then he said in a fashion that indicated his unwillingness to tell the truth: