Her anger at Joel for his submission beat in her ears; and she heard the jingle of the keys, and the scrape and ring of the weapons as Mark took them. He called to Joel as he did so: "They'll not leave my hands. Till the morning, Joel, my boy...." The keys jingled again. Mark said: "We'll ask you to stay in the after cabin here till morning. And--Varde will be in the main cabin to see that you do it." "I'll stay here," Joel promised. "Then--we'll bid you good night!" Priss heard Joel echo the words, in even tones. Then the door closed behind the men.... There was no further sound in the after cabin. She opened her door. Joel stood by his desk, head drooping, one hand resting on the open log before him. She went toward him, and when he turned and saw her, she stopped, and studied him, her eyes searching his. And at last she said, so softly it was as though she spoke to herself: "'All the brothers were valiant,' Joel. Are you--just a coward?" He would not justify himself to her; he could only remember the shadowed deck beneath the boat house--Priscilla in his brother's arms.... He lifted his right hand a little, said sternly: "Go back to your place." She flung her eyes away from him, stood for an instant, then went to her cabin with feet that lagged and stumbled. XIV Joel lay for an hour, planning what he should do. He could not yield.... He could not yield, even though he might wish to do so; for the yielding would forfeit forever all control over these men, or any others. He could not yield.... Yet he did not wish to fight; for the battle would be hopeless, with only death at the end for him, and it would ruin the men and lose the ship.... Blood marks a ship with a mark that cannot be washed away. And Joel loved his ship; and he loved his men with something of the love of a father for children. Children they were. He knew them. Simple, easily led, easily swept by some adventurous vision.... He slept, at last, dreamlessly; and in the morning, when they came to him, he told them what he wished to do. "Call the men aft," he said. "I'll speak to them. We'll see what their will is." Mark mocked him. "Ask the men, is it?" he exclaimed. "Let them vote, you'll be saying. Are you master of the ship, man; or just first selectman, that you'd call a town meeting on the high seas?" "I'll talk with the men," said Joel stubbornly. Varde strode forward angrily. "You'll talk with us," he said. "Yes or no. Now. What is it?" They were in the main cabin. Joel looked at Varde steadily for an instant; then he said: "I'm going on deck. You'll come...." Priss, in the door of the after cabin, a frightened and trembling little figure, called to him: "Joel. Joel. Don't...."