Faith had assured herself, from the beginning, that Brander had no real
intention of claiming the ambergris was his personal booty. He was too
sensible for that, she felt; and he was not greedy....
She had been sure; but like all women, she wished to be reassured. She
had given Brander the chance to reassure her, speaking of the 'gris and
of Dan'l Tobey's suspicions in the matter. It would have been so easy
for Brander to laugh and say: "You know I have no such idea. It belongs
to the _Sally_, of course...." That would have settled the thing, once
and for all....
But Brander had not been frank and forthright. He had only said:
"There's no harm in puzzling Mr. Tobey...." And when she had suggested
that there might be harm for Brander in his attitude, his eyes had
hardened with something like defiance in them.... He had said he was not
worried as to what Dan'l might think or do. He thus remained as much of
a puzzle to Faith as ever.... If he had deliberately planned to steal a
place in her thoughts, he could have taken no better means. Faith, with
her growing sense of responsibility for the _Sally_, for the success of
the voyage, for the good renown of Noll Wing, was acutely concerned when
anything threatened that success. The ambergris was properly a part of
the _Sally's_ takings.... Brander must see it so. Did he mean to push
his claim, to make trouble?...
She tried to find her answer to this question in Brander's face; she
began to study him daily.... She perceived the strength of the man, and
his poise and assurance. Brander was very sure of himself and of his
capabilities, without in the least overrating them. He knew himself for
a man; he bore himself as a man.... Faith respected him; without her
realizing it, this respect and liking grew.
Unconsciously, Brander was ranked now and then in her thoughts beside
her husband, Noll Wing; she compared the two men without willing to make
the comparison. And in the process, she studied Noll Wing more closely
than she had ever studied him before. It was at this time that she first
marked the fact that Noll was shrinking, wasting the flesh from his
bones. His skin was becoming loose; it sagged. His great chest was
drawing in between his shoulders; his shoulders slumped forward. Also
Faith saw, without understanding, that the great cords of his neck were
beginning to stand out under the loose skin, that hollows were forming
about them. The man's bull neck was melting away.... Faith saw, though
she did not fully understand; she knew that Noll was aging, nothing
more....
She was drawn to Noll, at this discovery, by a vast tenderness; but this
tenderness was impersonal. She thought it a recrudescence of her old,
strong love for the man; it was in fact only such a feeling as she might
have had for a sick or wounded beast. She pitied Noll profoundly; she
tried to make him happy, and comfortable. She sought, now and then, to
woo him to cheerfulness and mirth; but Noll was shrinking, day by day,
into a more confirmed habit of complaint; he whined constantly, where in
the old days he would have stormed and commanded. And he resented
Faith's attentions, resented her very presence about him. One day she
went herself into the galley and prepared a dish she thought would
please him; when she told him what she had done, he exclaimed:
"God's sake, Faith, quit fussing over me. I got along more'n twenty year
without a woman...."
Faith would not let herself feel the hurt of this.... But even while she
watched over Noll, Brander more and more possessed her thoughts. Her
recognition of this fact led her to be the more attentive to Noll, as
though to recompense him for the thing he was losing.... She had never
so poured out herself upon him.
It was inevitable that this developing change in Faith should be marked
by those in the cabin. Dan'l saw it, and Brander saw it.... Brander saw
it, and at first his pulse leaped and pounded and his eyes shone with
his thoughts.... On deck, about his duties, he carried the memory of her
eyes always with him. Her eyes as she had looked at him, that day, and
many days before. Questioning, a little wistful.... A little
wondering....
But Brander was a strong man; and he put a grip upon himself. He was
drawn to Faith; he knew that if he let himself go, he would be caught in
a whirlwind of passion for her. But he did not choose to let himself go;
and by the same token, he took care to have no part in what might be
taking place in Faith herself. He knew that he might have played upon
her awakened interest in him; he knew that it would be worth life itself
to see more plainly that which he had glimpsed in her eyes;
nevertheless, he put the thing away from him. When she was about, he
became reticent, curt, abrupt.... He took refuge in an arrogance of
tone, an absorption in his work. He began to drive his men....
Dan'l Tobey saw. Dan'l had eyes to see; and it was inevitable that he
should discover the first hints of change in Faith. For he watched her
jealously; and he watched Brander as he had watched him from the
beginning. Dan'l saw Faith and Brander drawing together, day by day; and
though he hated Brander the more for it, he was content to sit still and
wait.... He counted upon their working Brander's own destruction between
them, in the end; and Dan'l was in a destructive mood in those days. He
hated the strength of Brander, the loyalty of Faith, the age of old Noll
Wing, and the youth of Roy.... He was become, through overmuch brooding,
a walking vessel of hate; it spilled out of him with every word, keep
his voice as amiable as he might. He hated them all....
But he was careful to hide his resentment against Roy; he cultivated the
boy, he worked little by little to debase Roy's standards of life, and
he looked forward vaguely to a day when he might have use for the lad.
Dan'l had no definite plan at this time save to destroy.... But for all
his absorption in Faith, he had not failed to see that Noll Wing's
strength was going out of him. If Noll were to die, Dan'l would be
master of the _Sally_ and those aboard her....
Dan'l never lost sight of this possibility; he kept it well in mind; and
he laid, little by little, the foundations upon which in that day he
might build his strength. Roy was one of these foundations....
Dan'l saw one obstacle in his path, even with Noll gone. The men
forward, and some of the under officers, were hotly loyal to Noll Wing;
and by the same token they looked upon Faith with eyes of awed
affection. Faith had that in her which commanded the respect of men; and
Dan'l knew that the roughest man in the crew would fight to protect
Faith, against himself or any other. He never forgot this....
When Roy Kilcup, last of them all, marked Faith's interest in Brander,
the boy unwittingly gave Dan'l a chance to strike a blow at the men's
trust in the captain's wife.
Roy, though he might quarrel with her most desperately, was at his heart
devoted to Faith, and wild with his pride in her. He marked a look in
her eyes one day; and it disturbed him. Dan'l found the boy on deck,
staring out across the water, his eyes clouded with perplexity and
doubt. Roy was aft; there was one of the men at the wheel. Dan'l glanced
toward this man.... One of his own boat crew, by name Slatter, with a
sly eye and a black tongue.... Dan'l spoke to him in passing, some
command to keep the _Sally_ steady against the pressure of the wind, and
stopped beside Roy, dropping his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Hello, Roy," he said amiably.
Roy looked up at him, nodded. Dan'l caught a glimpse of the shadow in
his eyes and asked in a friendly tone: "What's wrong? You're worried
about something...."