Came cries, blows, a tumultuous outbreak. TheSallyrang with the storm of battle. Then, abruptly, quiet....
At that sudden-falling quiet, Dan'l turned pale in spite of himself; he licked his lips. The thing was done....
He ran forward, virtuously ready to take a hand.
When Brander, at Dan'l's command, went forward to quiet the men in the fo'c's'le, he found two or three of the crew on deck about the scuttle, watching the tumult below.... When they heard him and saw him, they backed away. The light from the fo'c's'le lamp dimly illumined their faces; and Brander thought there was something murderous and at the same time furtive in their eyes.
More than that, he caught the smell of alcohol.... So there was whiskey loose below him.
A man boiled up the ladder past him to the deck, saw him and slid away into the dark. Another.... Six or eight were still fighting below.
Brander had that sixth sense which men must have who would command other men; he felt, now, the peril in the air. His duty was down there among those fighting men; to get down, he would ordinarily have used the ladder. But to do so would be to engage his hands and his feet, and he might well have need of both these members.... He put his hands on the edge of the fo'c's'le scuttle and dropped lightly to the floor of the fo'c's'le, without touching the ladder. He landed on his toes, poised, ready....
The narrow, crowded, triangular den was thick with the smell of hot men, of whiskey, of burning oil; the air was heavy with smoke. A single swinging lamp lightedthe place.... Beneath this lamp, four or five men were involved in a battle from which legs and arms were waved awkwardly as their owners struggled. Two other men crouched at opposite sides of the fo'c's'le.... Watching.... One was Mauger; the other Slatter. Brander cried:
"Drop it, now...."
The character of the struggle changed; the fighting men straightened.... Then some one hit the lamp and sent it whirling into darkness; and at the same moment, Brander heard Slatter scream murderously.... He slipped to one side, backed into a corner, held hands before him, ready to meet an attack....
Slatter's charge, if he were attacking Brander, should have carried the man past the mate's hiding place. But Brander, in the dark, heard a thump of two bodies together, and heard Slatter bellowing profanity, and heard heels thumping upon the floor. Then two or three men made a rush up the ladder to the deck.... Another.... Brander stepped forward, tripped over a whirling leg, and dropped upon a smother of two bodies which writhed beneath him. An arm was flying; he gripped for it and felt the prick of a knife in his wrist. So.... Death in the air, then....
He dragged that arm down to his face and bit at the wrist and the back of the hand, till he felt the knife drop from the man's fingers.... The three of them were writhing and striking and kicking and strangling.... But the knife was gone.... So much the better. He began to fumble with his right hand, seeking marks for his fists.... Hedid not strike blindly, but when he struck, his blows went home.... On some one's ribs, and back, and once on the neck at the base of the ear....
They were fighting in silence now.... All had passed so quickly that it was still scarce more than seconds since Brander dropped into the fo'c's'le. Their bodies thumped the planking resonantly; they struggled in a fashion that shook the ship. They were gasping and choking for breath....
Some one screamed terribly in Brander's very ear, and a hand that was gripping his neck relaxed and fell away. The bodies of the fighting men were for an instant still; and in that instant's silence, some one asked:
"You all right, Mr. Brander?"
Brander knew the voice. Mauger's. He said: "Yes...."
Mauger squirmed out from under Brander.... "What hit Slatter?" he asked sharply. "Did you get him?..."
Brander got up, and the body of Slatter fell away from him limply. It was about that time that Dan'l reached the fo'c's'le scuttle above, and looked down into the darkness. He saw nothing; and he called:
"Mr. Brander?"
Brander said quietly: "Yes, sir, all right."
"What's wrong, here?"
"Slatter tried to knife me," said Brander.
"Have you got him?"
"I don't know. He's still. Strike a light, if you please...."
Dan'l was already half way down the ladder; but even before his sulphur match scratched, Brander's nostrils told him what had happened. They brought him a smell.... Unmistakable.... Appalling.... The smell of blood....
He was on his knees beside Slatter's body when Dan'l bent over him with the flickering match. They saw Slatter doubled forward over his own legs, and Brander explained swiftly: "I had a full-Nelson.... I was forcing him over that way when he yelled...."
He lifted Slatter's body; and they saw the hilt of a knife that was stuck downward, deep into his right thigh. Dan'l cried:
"You've killed him."
And one-eyed Mauger interrupted loyally: "No, he didn't. Didn't...."
Dan'l looked at the one-eyed man. "How do you know?"
"I did. I stuck the knife in him...."
Brander looked at Mauger, and he touched the little man's shoulder. "You're a liar, little friend," he said, and smiled. And he turned to Dan'l. "I bit the knife out of his hand," he said. "Out of Slatter's.... It fell against my chest and slid down.... It must have dropped between his body and his legs, and his own body, bending forward, drove it in."
Dan'l smiled unpleasantly. "All right; but Mauger says he did it."
Brander shook his head. "He didn't. For a good reason. He was flat on the floor, and I was kneeling onhis back, between him and Slatter, when Slatter yelled and quit fighting...."
Dan'l groped for the whale-oil lamp and lighted it and bent to look at the knife. "How did it kill him, there?" he demanded.
"Struck the big thigh artery," said Brander. "It must have...."
Then Noll Wing's voice came to them from the scuttle. "What's wrong, below?" And his big bulk slid down the ladder....
Brander's explanation was the one that went down in the log, in the end. Noll wrote it himself, in the irregular and straggling characters which his trembling fingers formed. And that was Faith's doing; for Dan'l did not believe, or affected not to believe, and Noll was too shaken by the tragedy to know what he believed.
Dan'l and Noll and Faith talked it over between them, in the after cabin, the next morning. Faith had slept through the disturbance of the night before; but when she heard of it in the morning it absorbed her. She went on deck and found Brander and made him tell her what had happened. He described the outbreak in the fo'c's'le; he told how, when he went forward, he smelled liquor on the men.... How he dropped through the fo'c's'le scuttle, and some one knocked the lamp from its hanging, and Slatter rushed him.
"Mauger saw what the man meant," he said. "He jumped on him from the side; and then I took a hand; and we had it for a while, in a heap on the floor."
The other men in the fo'c's'le had fled to the deck, leaving Slatter to do his own work. "I made him let go of the knife," Brander explained, "and after we had banged around for a while, I got him from behind, my arms under his, my hands clasped behind his neck. I bent him over, forward.... He was trying to get hold of my throat, over his shoulder.... And he yelled and let go...."
Faith's eyes were troubled. "You say the men had been drinking?"
"Yes."
"Where did they get it?"
Brander shook his head; he waited for her to speak. She said: "Let me talk to Mauger."
He sent the one-eyed man to her, and took himself away.... Mauger told his story volubly. The little man had added a cubit to his stature by his exploit; he had done heroically, and knew it, and was proud.... He told, straightforwardly, how Brander dropped down into the fo'c's'le...." Slatter had fixed it with a man to knock out the light," he explained. "I heard them whispering. I was watching.... I saw Slatter had a knife. So when he jumped for Mr. Brander, I tripped him, and he fell over me, and then Mr. Brander grabbed him...." The little man chuckled at the joke on himself. "They fit all over me, ma'am," he said, "They done a double shuffle up and down my backbone, right."
Faith smiled at him and told him he did well. "But where did the men get liquor?" she asked.
Mauger grinned and backed away. "I dunno, ma'am.... Did they have any?..."
She said steadily: "Mauger, where did the men get the liquor?"
The man squirmed, but he stood still under her eyes; he tried to avoid her.... But in the end he came nearer, looking backward and from side to side. Came nearer, and whispered at last....
"Slatter brought a jug forward after his go at the wheel, ma'am."
"Slatter?" Faith echoed softly.... "Slatter.... All right, Mauger. And—don't talk too much, forward...."
The man escaped eagerly. He had been willing enough to talk about Slatter's knife and his own good deed; but this other was another matter. Whiskey in the fo'c's'le....
This was in the early morning, before the whole story had spread to every man. Faith went quickly below, and asked his keys from Noll, and went into the storeroom. Found nothing there to guide her.... But while she was there, Tinch, the cook, came down to get coffee.... She studied the man thoughtfully....
"Tinch," she said, finger pressing her cheek, "I left a jug down here.... It's gone. Have you seen it anywhere?"
Tinch, a tall, lean man with a bald head, looked at her stupidly, and ran a thin finger through his straggly locks and thought. "Waal, now, ma'am," he said at last, "I rec'lect I see Roy fetch a jug up out o' here, yist'day."
"Roy?" she asked. "What was he down here for?"
"Come down to...." He looked at her, and was suddenly confused with fear he had played Judas. "Waal, now, ma'am," he drawled, "I cal'late you'd best ask the boy that there."
She nodded at once. "Of course.... Thank you, Tinch."
So Faith had this matter in her mind when Dan'l came down to find Noll, in mid-morning, and ask what was to be done about the tragedy. Noll said fretfully: "Slide Slatter over t'side, Mr. Tobey. Do I have to look after everything aboard this ship?"
Dan'l nodded. "Hitch is fixing for that," he said. "What I mean is, how about Mauger? He says he done it."
Noll said sullenly: "Well, if he says he done it, he done it."
"That's what I say," Dan'l agreed. "Only thing is, Brander stands up for him. So what do you aim t'do?"
"Brander stands up for him...."
"Says he couldn't ha' done it, any ways."
Noll threw up his fist angrily. "Damn it, Mr. Tobey; don't run to me with this. Find out what happened.... Then tell me. That's the thing.... My God, this ship is.... God's sake, Mr. Tobey, be a man."
Dan'l said steadily: "All right; I say Mauger did it."
Noll's cheeks turned pale and his eyes narrowed on the mate. "Stuck the knife in him?"
"Yes."
The captain's hands tapped his knees. "How did he know to stick it in the man's leg so neat? Most men would ha' struck for the back.... The man knows the uses of a knife, Mr. Tobey."
Dan'l nodded. "Oh, aye...."
Noll looked furtively toward the door. "I've allus said he'd a knife for me.... He'll be on my back, one day...." He was trembling, and he poured a drink and swallowed it. Faith, sitting near him, looked up, looked at Dan'l, then bent her head over her book again. Dan'l said:
"I think it's wise to put him in irons."
Noll roared: "Then do it, Mr. Tobey. Don't come whining to me with your little matters. I'm an old man, Dan'l.... I'm weary and old.... Settle such things.... That's the business of a mate, Mr. Tobey...."
Faith said quietly, without looking up: "Why make so much talk? Mr. Brander has explained what happened."
The men were silent for an instant, surprised and uneasy. Dan'l looked at the captain; Noll's head was bent. Dan'l ventured to say:
"You think Mr. Brander is right?"
"Of course."
Dan'l suggested awkwardly: "You—think he's telling truth?"
Faith nodded. "Any one can see that...."
Dan'l laughed mirthlessly, "Then we'd best write.... We'd best let Mr. Brander write his story in the log, sir."
Faith looked at Dan'l steadily; then she turned to her husband. "Noll," she said, "you write the log. I'll tell you what to write."
He looked up at her stupidly, not understanding. She got up and opened the log book and gave him a pen. He protested: "Faith, wait...."
She touched his shoulder lightly with her hand, silencing him. "Write this," she said; and when Noll took the pen, she dictated: "Some one gave the men liquor this day; they were drinking in the fo'c's'le. When Mr. Brander went forward to quiet them...." She saw Noll had fallen behind with his writing, and waited a moment, then repeated more slowly: "When Mr. Brander went forward to quiet them, Slatter attacked him with a knife. In the struggle, Slatter dropped the knife, and a moment later fell on it, dying from the wound."
She repeated the last sentence a second time, so that Noll got it word for word; and then she took the log from him, and blotted it, and put it away. Dan'l Tobey protested:
"Aren't you saying anything about Mauger?"
Faith smiled quietly. "Thank you for reminding me," She opened the log again, bade Noll write, said slowly: "The man Mauger saved Mr. Brander's life by tripping Slatter as he charged." Dan'l grimaced as she finished....
"Now," said Faith, "Slatter was not important; at least he is no longer important. But there is one thing, Noll, that you must stop.... The whiskey that went forward...."
Noll looked at her slowly, frowning as though he sought to understand; Dan'l said:
"That was probably Slatter, stole it. The men say so...."
"He took it forward," Faith agreed. "But he did not get it from the stores. He could not." She hesitated, her lips white; then she set them firmly. "Dan'l, fetch Roy here," she said.
Dan'l was so surprised that for an instant he did not stir. "Roy?" he repeated. "What's he...."
Faith looked to her husband. "Will you tell him to bring Roy?" she asked.
Noll asked heavily: "What's the boy.... Go along, Dan'l. Fetch him."
Dan'l got up at once, and went out, closing the door behind him. They heard him go on deck.... A minute later, he was back with Roy at his heels, and Faith saw her brother's face was white. She asked quickly:
"Roy, why did you steal a jug of whiskey from the stores?"
Roy cried, on the instant: "That's a lie."
Faith studied him. He expected accusation, questioning. Instead she nodded. "All right."
"Who says I stole whiskey?" Roy demanded.
"I," Faith told him.
"Who.... Somebody lied to you...."
"No."
Roy was near tears with bafflement. "Why.... What makes you...."
Faith asked quietly: "Don't you want to tell?"
"It's a lie, I say."
She looked to her husband; and Noll saw they were all waiting on him, and he tried to rise to the occasion. "By God, Roy.... What did you go and do that for? God's sake, can't a man have a ship without a pack of thieves on her? Mr. Tobey, you...." He wavered, his eyes swung helplessly to Faith. He seemed to ask her to speak for him; and she said to Dan'l:
"Take him on deck, Dan'l. Till Cap'n Wing decides...."
Roy insisted. "I tell you, I didn't...."
But Dan'l Tobey hushed him. Dan'l was getting his first glimpse of the new Faith; and he was afraid of her. He took Roy's arm, led him out and away.... Faith and Noll were left alone.
At noon that day, at Noll Wing's profane command, Roy was put in irons and locked in the after 'tween decks to stay a week on bread and water. The boy cursed Faith to her face for that; and Faith went to her cabin, and dropped on her knees and prayed.
But she kept a steady face for the men, and in particular she kept a steady eye for Dan'l Tobey. She knew Dan'l, now.... Dan'l had warned Roy, before bringing him to the cabin. He must have warned the boy, for Roy was prepared for the accusation. He must have warned the boy, therefore he must have known what Faith would assert....
And Faith knew enough of Dan'l's ascendancy over Roy to be sure the mate had prompted her brother's theft.
She must watch Dan'l, fight him. And ... shethanked God for Brander. There was a man, a man on her side.... She was not to fight alone.
She dreamed of Brander that night. He was battling for her, in her dream, against shadowy and unseen things. And in her dream, she thought he was her husband.
An unrest seized Noll Wing; an unrest that was like fear. He assumed, by small degrees, the aspect of a hunted man. It was as though the death of Slatter prefigured to him what his own end would be. His nerves betrayed him; he could not bear to have any man approach him from behind, and he struck out, nervously, at Willis Cox one day when Willis spoke from one side, where Noll had not seen him standing.
The continual storms of the Solander irked him; the racking work of whaling, when it was necessary to run to port with each kill, fretted the flesh from his bones. They lost a whale one day, in a sudden squall that developed into a gale and swept them far to the southward; and when the weather moderated, and Dan'l Tobey started to work back to the Grounds again, Noll would have none of it.
"Set your course t'the east'ard," he commanded. "I'm fed up with the Solander. We'll hit the islands again...."
Dan'l protested that there was nowhere such whaling as the Solander offered; but Noll would not be persuaded. He resented the attempt to argue with him. "No, by God," he swore. "A pity if a man can't have his way. Hell with the Solander, Dan'l. I'm sick o' storms, and cold. Get north t'where it's warm again...."
So they did as he insisted, and ran into slack times once more. The men at first exulted in their new leisure; they were well enough content to kill a whale and loaf a week before another kill. Then they began to be impatient with inaction; discontent arose among them. They remembered the ambergris; and their talk was that they need stay out no longer, that the voyage was already a success, that they had a right to expect to head for home.
Brander, ever among them as he had promised himself he would be, worked against this discontent. He tried to hearten them; they gave him half attention, and some measure of liking.... But their sulking held and grew upon them.
There was as much ill feeling aft as forward. Roy, released from his irons long before, had not spoken to Faith since his release. He hated his sister with that hatred which sometimes arises between blood kin, and which is more violent than any other. Let lovers quarrel; let brothers clash; let son and father, or mother and daughter, or brother and sister go asunder, and there is no bitterness to equal the bitterness between them. It is as though the strength of their former affection served to intensify their hate. It is like the hatred of a woman scorned; she is able to hate the more, because she once has loved.
Roy hated Faith; and with the ingenuity of youth, he found out ways to torment her. He perceived that Faith must always love him, he perceived that her thoughts hovered over him as do the thoughts of a mother; and he took pleasure in agonizing her with his own misdeeds.He lied for the pleasure of lying; he swore roundly; and once, under Dan'l's gentle guidance, he pilfered rum and drank himself into the likeness of a beast. When Faith chided him for that, he told her with drunken good nature that she was to blame; that she had driven him to it. Faith's sense of justice was strong; she was too level of head to condemn herself; nevertheless, she was made miserable by what the boy had done.... Yet she led Noll to punish him for this theft, more sternly than before; and afterward, she had Roy sent forward to take his place among the men, and the cabin was forbidden ground to him thereafter.
Noll was wax in Faith's hands in these days. His fear, growing upon him, had shaken all the fiber out of the man. He could be swayed by Dan'l, by old Tichel, by Faith, by almost any one.... Save in a single matter. He was drinking steadily, now; and drinking more than ever before. He was never sober, never without the traces of his liquor in his eyes and his loose lips and slack muscles. And they could not sway him in this matter. He would not be denied the liquor that he craved.
Faith tried to win it away from him; she tried to strengthen the man's own will to fight the enemy that was destroying him. She tried to fan to life the ancient flame of pride.... But there was no grain of strength left in Noll for her to work on. He waved her away, and filled his glass....
She might have destroyed what liquor remained aboard theSally; but she would not. That would not cure; it would only put off the end. At their first port, Nollwould get what he wanted.... And there were islands all about them; he could reach land within a matter of twenty-four hours, or forty-eight, at any time. She fought to help Noll help himself; she would not do more. Noll was a man, not a baby desiring the fire which must be kept beyond its reach. He knew his enemy, and he embraced it knowingly.
Faith never felt more keenly the fact of her marriage to Noll than in those last days of his life. She never thought of herself apart from him; and when he debauched himself, she felt soiled as though she were herself degraded. Nevertheless, she clung to him with all her soul; clung to him, lived the vows she had given him.... There were other times, after that first, when she dreamed of Brander.... But she could not curb her dreams.... He was much in them; but waking, she put the man away from her. She was Noll's; Noll was hers. Inescapable....
Brander avoided her. His heart was sick; she possessed it utterly. But he gave no sign; he never relaxed the grip in which he held himself. Now and then, on deck, when Noll swore at her, or whined, or fretted, Brander had to swing away and put the thing behind him. But he did it; he was strong enough to do this; he was almost strong enough to keep his thoughts from Faith. Almost.... But not quite.... She dwelt always with him; he was sick with sorrow, and pity, and yearning for the right to cherish her.
They spoke when they had to, in cabin or on deck; butthey were never alone, and they avoided each the other as they would have shunned a precipice....
Save for one day, a single day.... A day when Faith called Brander to her on the deck and spoke to him.... A single day, that would have been, but for the strength of Faith, the bloody destruction of them both.
This incident was the climax of two trains of events, extending over days.... Extending, in the one case, back to that first day when Dan'l had roused the brand of jealousy in Noll to flame. Dan'l had never let that flame die out. He fanned it constantly; and when he saw in Faith's eyes, after the matter of Roy's first theft of the whiskey, that she had guessed his part in it, he threw himself more hotly into his intrigue. He kept at Noll's side whenever it was possible; he whispered....
He spoke openly of Brander's fondness for the men, of Brander's habit of talking with them so constantly. Faith heard him strike this vein, again and again.... He harped upon it to Noll, seeming to defend Brander at the same time that he accused.... He played upon the strain until even Faith's belief in Brander was shaken. There was always the matter of the ambergris. Brander might have ended it with a word, but he would not give Dan'l Tobey that satisfaction. He would not say, forthright, that the 'gris belonged to theSally.... And Dan'l magnified this matter, and many others.... Until even Faith found it hard not to doubt the fourth mate.... She caught herself, more than once, watching him when he laughed and talked with the men. Was there needof that? Why did he do it? She could find no answer....
Noll feared Brander more and more; and Dan'l covertly taunted the captain with this fear. He roused Noll, time on time, to flagging gusts of rage; but always these passed in words.... And Noll fell back into his lethargy of drink again. Dan'l began to fear there was not enough man left in Noll to act.... He turned his guns on Faith, accusing her as he accused Brander....
But words were light things. Noll, moved though he might be, had in his heart a trust in Faith which Dan'l found it hard to shake. He might never have shaken it, had not luck favored him.... And this luck came to pass on the day Faith sought speech with Brander.
That move, on Faith's part, was the result of an increasing peril in the fo'c's'le. The men were getting drink again.
This began one day when a fo'm'st hand came aft to take the wheel and old Tichel smelled the liquor on him, and saw that the man's feet were unsteady, and flew into one of his tigerish fits of rage.... He drove the man forward with blows and kicks; and he came aft with his teeth bared and flamed to Noll Wing, and men were sent for and questioned. Three of them had been drinking. They were badly frightened; they were sullen; nevertheless, in the end, under old Tichel's fist, one of them said he had found a quart bottle, filled with whiskey, in his bunk the night before.... Tichel accused him of stealing it; the man stuck to his tale and could not be shaken.
The men could not come at the stores through thecabin; there was always an officer about the deck or below. Tichel thought they might have cut through from the after 'tween decks, and the stores were shifted in an effort to find such a secret entrance to the captain's stores. But none was found; there was no way....
Three days later, there was whiskey forward again. Found, as before, in a bunk.... Two men drunk, rope's endings at the rail.... But no solution to the mystery.
Two days after that, the same thing; four days later, a repetition. And so on, at intervals of days, for a month on end. The whiskey dribbled forward a quart at a time; the men drank it.... And never a trace to the manner of the theft.
In the end, Roy Kilcup found a bottle in his bunk, and drank the bulk of it himself, so that he was deathly sick and like to die. Faith, tormented beyond endurance, looking everywhere for help, chose at last to appeal to Brander.
Brander had the deck, that day. Willis Cox and Tichel were sleeping.... Dan'l was in the main cabin, alone; Noll in the after cabin, stupid with drink. Roy had been sick all the night before, with Willis Cox and Tichel working over him, counting the pounding heart-beats, wetting the boy's head, working the poison out of him. Roy was forward, in his bunk, now, still sodden.
Faith came from the after cabin, passed Dan'l and went up on deck. Something purposeful in her face caught Dan'l's attention; and he went to the foot of the cabin companion and listened. He heard her call softly:
"Mr. Brander."
Dan'l thought he knew where Brander would be. Inthe waist of theSally, no doubt. There was a man at the wheel. Faith did not wish this man to hear what she had to say. So she met Brander just forward of the cabin skylight by the boathouse; and Dan'l, straining his ears, could hear.
Faith said: "Mr. Brander, I'm going to ask you to help me."
Brander told her: "I'd like to. What is it you want done?"
"It's—Roy. I'm desperately worried, Mr. Brander."
"He's all right, Mr. Cox tells me. He'll be well enough in a few hours...."
"It's not just—this drunkenness, Mr. Brander. It's—more. My brother's.... He is in my charge, in a way. Father bade me take care of him. And he's—taking the wrong path."
Brander said quietly: "Yes."
Dan'l looked toward the after cabin, thought of bringing Noll to hear.... But there was no harm in this that they were saying; no harm.... Rather, good.... He listened; and Faith said steadily:
"My husband is not—not the man he was, Mr. Brander. Mr. Tobey.... I can't trust him. I've got to come to you...."
Dan'l decided, desperately, to bring Noll and risk it, trust to his luck and to his tongue to twist their words.... He went softly across to the after cabin and shook Noll's shoulder; and when the captain opened his eyes, Dan'l whispered:
"Come, Noll Wing. You've got to hear this...."
Noll sat up stupidly. "What? Hear what?... What's that you say?"
Dan'l said: "Faith and Brander are together, on deck, whispering...." He banged his clenched fist into his open hand. "By God, sir.... I've grown up with Faith; I like her.... But I can't stand by and see them do this to you...."
"What are they about?" Noll asked, his face flushing. He was on his feet. Dan'l gripped his arm....
"I heard her promise him you would soon be gone, sir.... That you were sick.... That you...."
Noll strode into the cabin; Dan'l whispered: "Quiet! Come...." He led him to the foot of the companion-stair, bade him listen.
And it was then the malicious gods played into Dan'l's evil hands; for as they listened, Faith was saying.... "Try to make him like you.... But be careful. He doesn't, now.... If he guessed...."
Brander said something which they could not hear; a single word; and Faith cried:
"You can. You're a man. He can't help admiring you in the end. I—" She hesitated, said helplessly: "I'm putting myself into your hands...."
Dan'l had wit to seize his fortune; he cried out: "By God, sir...."
But there was no need of spur to Noll Wing now. The captain had reached the deck with a single rush, Dan'l at his heels.... Faith and Brander sprang apartbefore their eyes; and because the innocent have always the appearance of the guilty, there was guilt in every line of these two now.
Noll Wing, confronting them, had in that moment the stature of a man; he was erect and strong, his eyes were level and cold. He looked from Faith to Brander, and he said:
"Brander, be gone. Faith, come below."
Brander took a step forward. Faith said quickly to him: "No." And she smiled at him as he halted in obedience.
Then she turned to her husband, passed him, went down into the cabin. And Noll, with a last glance at Brander, descended on her heels.
Dan'l, left facing the fourth mate, grinned triumphantly; and for an instant he saw death in Brander's eyes, so that his mirth was frozen.... Then Brander turned away.
Faith went down into the main cabin, crossed and entered the cabin across the stern, turned there to await her husband. He followed her slowly; he came in, and shut the door behind him. The man was controlling himself; nevertheless, he thrust this door shut with a force that shook the thin partition between the cabins.... And he snapped the bolt that held it closed.
Then he turned and looked at Faith. There was a furious strength in his countenance at that moment; but it was like the strength of a maniac. His lips twitched tensely; his eyes moved like the eyes of a man who is dizzy from too much turning on his own heels.... They jerked away from Faith, returned to her, jerked away again.... All without any movement of Noll's head. And as the man's eyes wavered and wrenched back to her thus, the pupils contracted and narrowed in an effort to focus upon her. For the rest, he was flushed, brick red.... His whole face seemed to swell.
He was inhuman; there was an ape-like and animal fury in the man as he looked at his wife....
Abruptly, he jerked up his hands and pressed them against his face and turned away; it was as though he thrust himself away with this pressure of his hands. He turned his back on her, and went to his desk, and unlocked a drawer. Faith knew the drawer; she was not surprised when he drew out of it a revolver.
Bending over the desk, with this weapon in his hand, Noll Wing made sure every chamber was loaded.... He paid her no attention. Faith watched him for an instant; then she turned to the bench that ran across the stern and picked up from it a bit of sewing, embroidery.... She sat down composedly on the bench, crossed her knees in the comfortable attitude of relaxation which women like to assume. One foot rested on the floor; the other swayed back and forth, as though beating time, a few inches above the floor. It is impossible for the average man to cross his knees in this fashion, just as it is impossible for a woman to throw a ball. Sitting thus, Faith began to sew. She was outlining the petal of an embroidered flower; and she gave this work her whole attention.
She did not look up at Noll. The man finished his examination of the weapon; he turned it in his hand; he lifted it and leveled it at Faith. Still Faith did not look up; she seemed completely unconcerned. Noll said harshly:
"Faith!"
She looked up then, met his eyes fairly, smiled a little. "What is it, Noll?"
"I'm going to kill you," he said, with stiff lips.
"All right," she said, and bent her head above her sewing once more, disregarding him.
Noll was stupefied.... This was not surprise; it was the helplessness which courage inspires in a coward. For Noll was a coward in those last days.... His face twisted; his hand was shaking.... He stared over therevolver barrel at Faith's brown head. Her hair was parted in the middle, drawn back about her face. The white line of skin where the hair was parted fascinated him; he could not take his eyes from it. The revolver muzzle lowered without his being conscious of this fact; the weapon hung in his hand.... His eyes were fixed on Faith's head, on the part in her hair.... She wore an old, tortoise comb, stuck downward into the hair at the back of her head, its top projecting upward.... A singular, old-fashioned little ornament.... There was a silver mounting on it; and the light glistened on this silver, and caught Noll's eye, and held it....
Faith continued her quiet sewing. And Noll's tense muscles, little by little, relaxed.... His fingers loosed their grip on the revolver butt; it dropped to the floor with a clatter. The sound seemed to rouse Noll; he strode toward Faith. "By God," he cried. "You'll...." He swung down a hand and gathered the fabric of her work between harsh fingers. Her needle was in the midst of a stitch; it pricked him.... He did not feel the tiny wound. He would have snatched the stuff out of her hands.... He felt as though it were defending her....
But when his hand swept down between hers and caught the bit of embroidery, Faith looked up at him again, and she caught his eyes. That halted him; he stood for an instant motionless, bending above her, their faces not six inches apart.... Then the man jerked his hand away.... He released his grip on the bit of fancy work; but the needle was deep in his finger, so that he pulled it outof the cloth. The thread followed it; when his quick movement drew the thread to full length, the fabric was jerked out of Faith's unresisting hands. It dangled by the thread from the needle that stuck in Noll's finger; and he saw it, and jerked the needle out with a quick, spasmodic gesture, and flung it to one side. He did not look at it; he was looking, still, at Faith.
"Put that away," he said hoarsely.
Faith smiled, glanced toward the bit of white upon the floor. "I'm afraid there's blood on it," she said.
"Blood ..." he repeated, under his breath. "Blood...." She folded her hands quietly upon her knee, waiting.
"I want to talk to you," he said.
She nodded. "All right. Do."
His wrath boiled through his lips chokingly. "You ..." he stammered. "You and Brander...."
Her eyes, upon his, hardened. She said nothing; but this hardening of her eyes was like a defiance. He flung his hands above his head. "By God, you're shameless," he choked. "You're shameless.... A shameless woman.... And him.... I took him out of a hell hole.... And he takes you.... I'll break him in two with my hands."
She said nothing; he flung into an insanity of words. He cursed her unspeakably, with every evil phrase he had learned in close to thirty years of the sea. He accused her of unnamable things.... His face swelled with his fury, the veins bulged upon his forehead, his eyes were covered with a dry film. His mouth filled with saliva,that splattered with the venom of his words.... It ran down his chin, so that he brushed it away with the back of his hand.... He was uncontrolled, save in one thing. Something made him hush his voice; he whispered harshly and chokingly.... What he said could scarce have been heard in the main cabin, six feet away from them....
The man was slavering; there were flecks of foam upon his lips.... And Faith watched him in a curious detachment, as though he were something outside the world, below it, beyond it.... She scarce heard his words at all; she was looking at the man's naked soul.... It was so inexpressibly revolting that she had no feeling that this soul had once been wedded to hers; she could not have believed this if she had tried. This was no man, but a beast.... There could be nothing between them. She had married Noll Wing; not the body of him, nor the face of him, but the soul within the man. And this was not Noll Wing's soul she saw.... That was dead; this horrible thing had bred festeringly in the carrion....
Humanity has an immense capacity for rising to an emergency. The human heart sustains a grief that should kill; it throws this grief aside and is—save for a hidden scar—as gay as it was in the beginning. Man meets peril or death, meets them unafraid.... If he had considered these emergencies in the calm and security of his home, his hair would have crawled with terror at the thought of them. The imagination can conjure dreadful things; the heart and soul and body of man can endure catastrophes beyond imagining. There is no load too heavy for this immortally designed fabric of flesh and bloodand bone to bear. There is a psychological phenomenon that might be called the duplication of personality. A soldier in battle becomes two men. One of these men is convulsed with lust for blood; he screams, he shoots, he stabs, he kills. The other is calm and serene; he watches the doings of his other self, considers them with calm mind, plans perilous combinations in the twinkling of an eye.... The soldier contains within himself a general who plans, and an army which executes the plan....
It was so with Faith. She shrank in spirit and heart before Noll's horrible outpouring; yet was she at the same time steady and undisturbed. There was a numbness upon her; a numbness that killed suffering and at the same time stimulated thought.... She was able to perceive the very depths of Noll; she looked, at the same time, into her own depths.... She heard him accuse her of foul passion for Brander; she knew, instead, that she loved Brander completely.... She had never known her love for Brander before; Noll showed it to her, dragged it out where she could see it beyond mistaking.... And even in that moment she welcomed this love; welcomed it, and saw that it was honest, and wholesome, and splendid, and clean.... She welcomed it, so that she smiled....
Her smile struck Noll like a blow in the face, stunning and sobering him. He flung out his hands.
"Come!" he commanded. "What do you say? Say something? Say...."
"What?" she asked. "What shall I say?"
"Is it true? Damn you.... Damn you.... Is it true?"
"Could I say anything you would believe?"
"No, by God! You're dirty and false as hell. You...." He struck his hands together helplessly. "Nothing," he cried. "Nothing! Nothing you can say.... Dirty as hell...."
Yet his eyes still besought her to speak; she touched the bench beside her. "Sit down, Noll," she said gently.
The man towered above her, hands upraised. His fingers twisted and writhed and clenched as though upon a soft throat that he gripped. His features worked terribly.... And then, before her eyes, a change came upon him. The tense muscles of his fury sagged; the blood ebbed from his veins, so that they flattened; the black flush faded on his cheeks.... He opened his mouth and screamed once, a vast and stricken scream of a beast in pain. It was like the scream of a frightened, anguished horse.... It rang along the length of theSally, so that the men forward shrank and looked over their shoulders, and every man aboard the ship was still....
He screamed, and then his great body shrank and collapsed and tottered and fell.... He dropped upon his knees, at her feet. He flung his head in her lap, his arms about her waist, clinging as a drowning man might cling to a rock. His cap dropped off; she saw his bald old head there.... He sobbed like a child, his great shoulders twitching and heaving.... His face was pressed upon her clasped hands; she felt his tears upon her wrists, felt the slaverings of his sobbing mouth upon her fingers....
He cried softly: "Eh, Faith.... Faith.... Don'tyou turn against me, now. I'm old, Faith...." And again: "I'm old, Faith.... Dying, Faith.... Don't leave me.... Don't turn against me now."
She bent above him, filled with an infinite pity and sorrow. This was the wreck of her love; she no longer loved him, but her heart was filled with sorrow.... She bent forward and laid her smooth cheek against the smooth parchment of his bald old head. She loosed her hands, and drew them out from beneath his face, and laid them on his shoulders, stroking him gently.
"There, Noll.... There ..." she murmured. Foolish words, meaningless, like the comforting sounds of an inarticulate animal.... Yet he understood. There were no words for what was in her heart; she could only whisper: "There.... There.... There...." And gently touch his shoulders, and his head.
"They're all against me, Faith," he told her, over and over. "All against me. Even you...."
"No, no, Noll. There...."
"You love him.... You love him."
"No, Noll. No...." She lied, not to deceive her husband, but to comfort him. Her eyes, above Noll's head, seemed to ask her love's pardon for the lie. "No, Noll.... You're my husband."
His arms tightened about her waist; his great chest pressed against her knees. "You're mine," he begged. "You're mine. Don't go away from me."
"No. Never.... Never, forever."
He raised his face from her lap at last; and she sawthat it was sunken like the countenance of one long dead. Cadaverous.... He cried, in utter self-abasement. "Eh, Faith. I don't deserve you. I'm an old, helpless man...."
She smiled at him. "I married you, Noll."
"I'm no good. They're laughing at me...."
Her eyes heartened him. "Master them. Command them. You are the master, Noll."
"I can't.... There's no strength in me...."
"It's there. Master them, Noll."
"I can't hold myself, Faith. Not even myself. I'm rotted with whiskey, and years, and strife...."
"Master yourself, Noll."
"Faith, Faith.... It's too late. I'm gone. I can't."
"You can," she said. She spoke the two words quietly; yet somehow they gave him of her strength, so that his head lifted higher, and the muscles took form beneath his slack cheeks. He stared into her eyes, as though he were drinking her soul through them; his chest swelled as though virtue were going into him. They sat thus, minutes on end.... He got to his feet. His eyes cleared, with the tempestuous and short-lived fire of age in their depths. He swore:
"By God, Faith. I will. I'll command.... Myself and them."
"You can," she said again. "You can. So—do, Noll."
He turned away from her, looking about with new eyes.... She smiled sadly; she knew him too well, now....She was not surprised when his first act was to go to the lockfast and get his bottle, and drink.... He smacked his lips, chuckled at her.
"By God, Faith, I'll show these dogs," he cried, and flung open the door. She heard him go out and climb up to the deck.... She sat where he had left her....
Sat there, and knew her love for Brander. In those minutes while she remained where Noll had seen her last, she listened to the singing of new voices in her heart. Brander was before her, in her eyes, in her thoughts.... He possessed her, in that moment, more completely than Noll had ever done. She gave herself to him completely, without reluctance and without faintest reservation. No need to see him, no need to tell him. She knew, he must know.... She never asked whether he loved her; she had always known that. Known it without admitting the knowledge, even in her thoughts. She loved him, body and heart and soul; her eyes yearned for his, her tongue to tell him what her heart was singing, her arms to embrace him....
She got up, at last, a little wearily.... It was only a matter of minutes that she sat there, looking within herself. When she listened, now, she could hear Noll's voice, on deck, roaring in the old way.... Once she heard Brander answer him, from somewhere amidships. Again she caught the murmur of Dan'l Tobey's tones....
Brander was her love; but Noll.... Noll was her husband, she his wife. And Faith passed her hand across her eyes as though to wipe away these visions she had looked upon. Noll was her husband; her vows were his.She was his, and would be.... Nothing he could do would make her less his; he was in her keeping, his life and hers could never take diverging paths. He was her charge, to strengthen, and guide, and support; his tasks were hers, his responsibilities were her responsibilities, his burdens must rest upon her shoulders....
But she did not deceive herself. Old Noll was dead, old Noll Wing who had mastered men for year on year. That Noll was dead; the Noll who lived was a weakling. But she was a part of the living Noll; and she was no weakling. So....
Her lips set faintly. Love Brander though she did, there was no place for him in her life. Her life was Noll; her life belonged to Noll. Noll was failing; his flesh might live, but his soul was dead and his strength was gone. His tasks fell upon her.
Quite simply, in that moment, Faith promised herself that whatever happened, theSally Simsshould come safe home again; that no man should ever say Noll Wing had failed in the end; that no man should ever make a jest of Noll's old renown. And if Noll could not manage these things for himself, she would....
She began, suddenly, to cry; she locked herself in her cabin and wept bitterly for hours.... But afterward, bathing her eyes, freshening herself to meet Noll's eyes, she looked into the mirror, and smiled and lifted her head. "You can do it, Faith," she told herself. "You can do it, full as well as he."
And then, more seriously: "You must, Faith Wing. You must bring theSallyhome."
When she stepped out into the after cabin, she saw the revolver still on the floor where Noll had left it. She picked it up to return it to its proper drawer....
But on second thought, she changed her mind, and took it and hid it in her bunk.
A curious lull settled down upon theSally Simsduring the days after Noll's open accusation of Faith, and his collapse before her steady courage. There was an apathy in the air; they saw few whales, lowered for them without zeal, missed more than one that should have been killed.... There was a silence upon the ship, like the hush of listening men who wait to hear an expected call. This paralysis gripped every soul aboard—save Noll Wing alone.
Noll, in those last days, stalked his deck like a parody of the man he once had been. Faith had put a fictitious courage in the man; he thought himself once more the master, as in the past. His heels pounded the planks; his head was high; his voice roared.... But there was a tremor in his stride; there was a trembling about the poise of him; there was a cracking quaver in his voice. He was like a child who plays at being a man.... They humored him; the men and the mates seemed to enter into a conspiracy to humor him. They leaped to his bidding; they shrank from his curses as though desperate with fear.... And Noll was so delighted with all this that he was perpetually good-natured, jovial....
He was, of course, drinking heavily and steadily; but the drink seemed to hearten him and give him strength. Certainly it made him lenient; for on three occasionswhen the men found a bottle, forward, and befuddled themselves with it, Noll only laughed as though at a capital jest. Noll laughed.... But Faith wondered and was distressed and watched to see how the liquor was being stolen. She was disturbed and alarmed; but Noll laughed at her fears.
"A little of it never hurt a man," he told her boastfully. "Look at me, to see that. Let be, Faith. Let be."
When she protested, he overrode her; and to show his own certainty of himself, he did a thing that Noll sober would never have done. He had the rum drawn from the barrel in his storeroom and served out to the men, a ration daily.... It amused him to see the men half fuddled with it. He forced it on them; and once, while Faith watched hopelessly, he commanded a hulking Cape Verder—the biggest man in the fo'c's'le—to drink a bout with him. They took glass for glass, till the other was helpless as a log; and Noll vaunted his own prowess in the matter.
Dan'l Tobey contented himself with the progress of these matters; he no longer stuck a finger in the pie. Noll was going; that was plain to any seeing eye. The captain grew weaker every day; his skin yellowed and parched, and the lower lids of his eyes sagged down and revealed the flaming red of their inner surface. These sagging lower lids made crescent-shaped pockets which were forever filled with rheumy fluid.... Noll was an ugly thing; and his perpetual mirth, his cackling laughter were the more horrible.... He was a laughing corpse;dissolution was upon him. But he kept himself so steeped with alcohol he did not feel its pangs.
Faith could do nothing; Brander could do nothing. Between these two, no further word had passed. But there was no need. Meeting face to face on deck, the day after Noll surprised them, their eyes met in a long and steady glance.... Their eyes met and spoke; and after that there was no need of words between them. There was a pledging of vows in that glance; there was also a renunciation. Both saw, both understood.... Faith thought she knew Brander to the depths....
Neither, in that moment, knew that Dan'l Tobey was at hand; but the mate had seen, and he had understood. He saw, slipped away, held his peace, considered.
Brander was fighting for Roy, to fulfill his pledge to Faith. He had set himself to win the boy's confidence and esteem; he applied himself to this with all the strength there was in him. Yet he was careful; he did not force the issue; he did not harass Roy with his attentions.... He held off, let Roy see for himself, think.... There were days when he thought he made some progress; there were days when he thought the effort was a hopeless one. Nevertheless, he persisted....
Noll Wing's good will, in those days, extended even to Brander. He offered Brander a drink one day.... Brander refused, and Noll insisted.... And was still refused. Noll said hotly, querulously:
"Come, Brander.... Don't be stiff, man. It will warm you, do you good.... You're needing warming. You're over cold and calm."
Brander shook his head, smiling. "Thanks; no, sir."
"Damn it, man," Noll complained. "Are you too proud to drink with the skipper?"
Brander refused again; and Noll's brows gathered suspiciously. "Why not?"
"My wish, sir,"
"Ye've a grudge against me. I remember.... You stick with Mauger...."
"No, sir."
Noll flung out his hand. "Be off. Your sour face is too ugly for me to look at. Mauger's none so particular.... He'll drink with me."
It was true; Mauger had more than once accepted drink from Noll. Noll, at these times, watched the one-eyed man furtively, almost appealingly. It was as though he sought to placate him and make a friend of him. Mauger had a weak head; he was not one to stand much liquor. It dizzied him; and this amused Noll.... This day, after Brander had refused him, Noll sent for Mauger and made the one-eyed man tipsy, and laughed at the jest of it.
Then, one day, this state of affairs came abruptly to an end. Noll went down into the storeroom to fill his bottle; and the spigot on the whiskey barrel gasped and failed. The whiskey was gone.
Now Noll had given of the rum to the crew; he had exhausted that. But the whiskey he kept jealously. He knew there should be more.... Much more than this.... Gallons, at the least.... He turned the handle ofthe spigot again, tipped the barrel, unable to understand.... His bottle was half full.... But no more came....
He frowned, puzzled his heavy head, tried to understand.... He came stumbling up out of the storeroom at last, with the half-filled bottle in his hand.... And the man's face was white. He sought Faith, held the bottle out to her.
"I say ..." he stammered. "It's gone.... Gone, by God...."
Faith asked sharply: "What is it, Noll?"
"The whiskey's gone."
Faith cried: "Thank God!"
He stared at her thickly. "Eh? You had a hand in it.... You've stole it away...."
"No."
He looked at her and knew she spoke the truth. He shook his head.... "Some hound ..." he whispered. "They've stole it...."
She questioned him; he had the shrewdness which occasionally characterizes the alcoholic. He had kept some count of the whiskey used during the cruise; he had himself handled the barrel two weeks before. It was then a quarter full. The thefts that had appeared in the fo'c's'le could not account for the rest. There was still a considerable amount that had been stolen, that had not yet appeared. "It's aboard here, by God," he swore at last. "They've got it hid away. You, Faith...."
She shook her head. He said placatingly: "No, you'd not do that trick. Not rob an old man.... I've got tohave it, Faith...." His eyes suddenly flickered with panic. "It's life, Faith. Life. I've got to have it, I say...."
He was right, she knew. There must still be a hidden store of the liquor aboard theSally.... To be doled out to the men by the thief in his own good time.... And Faith knew enough of such matters to understand that Noll, without the ration of alcohol to which he was accustomed, would suffer torment, would be like a madman.... The stuff must be found....
Noll was already trembling at the prospect of deprivation; he hugged to his breast the scant store that remained to him.... And of a sudden, as though afraid even this would be stolen, he tipped the bottle to his lips. He gulped greedily.... Before Faith could interfere, the last of it was gone....
That fierce draught put some strength and courage back into him; he stamped his feet. "I'll make them give it up, by God," he swore. "Watch...."
He started for the deck; and Faith, afraid for him, followed quietly behind. Passing through the main cabin, he roared to the officers who were asleep in their bunks: "On deck, all hands.... On deck, all hands...." They leaped out to obey him, not knowing what to expect. He reached the deck, still bellowing: "On deck, all. On deck, every man of you...." Brander was amidships; and he called: "Rout out the dogs, Mr. Brander. Fetch them aft."
The men came; they tumbled up from the fo'c's'le; they slid down from the mastheads.... Harpooners, mates,under officers grouped themselves by the captain; the crew faced him in a huddled group. He cursed them, man by man, for thieving dogs. "Now," he swore at last. "Now some one o' you has got the stuff hid away. Out with it; or I'll cut the heart out of you."
He paused, looking about him with flickering, reddened eyes. No man stirred, but Dan'l Tobey asked:
"What's wrong, Cap'n Wing?"
Noll told him, told them all, profanely. Somewhere there was hidden a store of whiskey; he meant to have it. If the thief gave it up, so much the better. He would get off with a rope's ending. If he persisted in silence, he would die.... Noll vowed that by all the oaths he knew.
The men stirred; they looked at their neighbors.... And then their eyes fastened on the captain, with a curious intentness. They licked their lips; and Faith thought they were enjoying this spectacle of Noll's weak rage.... She thought they were like dogs of a pack, with hungry eyes, watching the futile anger of a dying man.... She was afraid of them for an instant; then she was afraid of no man in the world.... She stood by Noll Wing's side, proud and level-eyed.
When Noll got no answer, his cackling fury waxed. He swore every man of them should be tied up and flogged unless the guilty spoke. They scowled at that; and one of them said sullenly:
"It's no man forra'd a-doing this, sir.... Look aft, at them that had the chance."
The word seemed to focus the sullen hate among themen; they growled like beasts, and surged a step forward. Brander, from the captain's side, moved toward them and lashed at him who had spoken with a swift fist, so that the man fell and lay still as a log. Brander looked down at the still man, faced the others. "Be silent," he said quietly. "Unless you've a word to say to the captain about what he wants. And get back.... Back into the waist; and stay...."
They gave back before him; and Dan'l said softly from Brander's back: "They mind you well, Mr. Brander. You've a rare control of them." The words were innocent enough, but the tone was accusation. Brander faced the mate, and Dan'l grinned malignantly....
Noll passed abruptly from threats to pleadings; he tried to cloak his pleading under a mask of fellowship; he spoke to the men as to friends, beseeching them to yield what he wanted. They remained silent; and his mask fell off, and he abased himself before them with his words, so that old Tichel and Willis Cox were sickened, and Dan'l was pleased. Brander made no sign; he stood loyally at the captain's side; and Faith was on Noll's other hand....
She was studying the faces of the men and of the officers, seeking for a shadow of guilt. The men were sullen; but there was no shame in their eyes. There was nothing furtive—save in the countenance of Mauger. The one-eyed man had ever a furtive look; the twitching of his closed eye irresistibly suggested a malignant wink. Faith watched him; she saw his eyes were fixed on Brander....In spite of herself, a cold pang of doubt touched her.... Mauger had reason to hate Noll Wing.... Had he?...
She put the thought away, to study Dan'l Tobey. But Dan'l, though he was obviously content with matters, had no trace of guilt or fear in his demeanor. He was perfectly assured, almost triumphant. Faith thought he could not appear so if he were the thief.... Not Dan'l; not Willis Cox, nor Tichel.... Not Brander; she would not have it so....
Yet she could not keep her eyes away from Mauger's leering, chuckling, furtive countenance.
Abruptly, she touched Noll's arm. The captain was near a collapse.... He was pleading helplessly, so that some of the men were beginning to grin. Faith touched his arm; she said quietly:
"Noll, do not beg. You are master."
He caught himself together with a terrific effort.... He turned and stumbled away down into the cabin, Faith after him. Dan'l came down a little later, respectful.... "Why not put into port somewhere, sir?" he suggested. "Get what you want...."
Noll clutched at that desperately.... "Aye, quick, Mr. Tobey. What's nearest?"
Dan'l named the nearest island where they were like to find a trading post; Noll nodded. "Put for it, Dan'l. All sail on. For God's sake, quickly, man!"
Ten minutes later, theSallyheeled to a new tack.... And Noll, with Faith, below in the cabin, bit at his nails, and tried to hold himself, and stifle the appetite that wastearing him. His passion and pleading had burned out the effects of the drink he had taken; his body agonized for more....
By nightfall, Noll was shaking with an ague. He would not sleep that night. And toward dawn, a brewing gale caught theSally....
She fought that storm till noon, giving way before it; and in the cabin Noll passed from tremors to paroxysms of fright. He gnawed at his own flesh; and hallucinations began to prey upon him. Faith fought him, bade him lie down, tried to soothe him. She knew the danger of his enforced abstinence; she gave him a draught that should have compelled sleep; but after an hour he woke with a scream, and clutched at her shoulders with fingers that bit the flesh, and flung her away from him, and cowered in the most distant corner, hands before him, shrieking:
"Back, Mauger! Get away.... You devil! Mauger, get back.... Eh, man, get away.... By God, I'll ... I never meant the kick, man.... Let be.... My God, let be...."
She called softly: "It's Faith, Noll. It's Faith, Faith.... Not Mauger...."
He recognized her, and ran and caught her and swung her around before him and besought her to keep Mauger and his knife away. She told him, over and over: "He's not here, Noll. He's not here. It's Faith...."
He cried: "Look at his knife...." He pointed horribly. "His knife.... It's red, now.... Look at the knife. Kill him, Faith.... Drive him away...."
She held him against her breast as she would have held a child. Brander came to the door, with Willis Cox. She called to them: "Stay away.... He's mine. I'll tend him." Noll saw them, and screamed at Brander:
"There! Him! There's a knife in his sleeve...."
Brander slipped out of sight; she managed to quiet Noll for a space; but he broke out again: "Mauger! He's coming, Faith.... There...." And then, to the man he thought he saw: "Mauger! Get back, man. Let be.... God's sake...."
Then he wept whisperingly to Faith: "See his eye! Down on his cheek.... Hanging.... Make him put it back—where it belongs.... Mauger, man...."
Bit by bit she wooed him back to sanity, or the semblance of it. He was quiet when Dan'l Tobey came down; and when he saw Dan'l, Noll demanded:
"Are we making it, Dan'l? Are we near there?..."