own voice.

BEN (_with a frightened glance toward the door on right_). She
don't never speak to me no more--jest looks at me's if she didn't
know me.

THE STEWARD. She don't know no one--but him. She talks to
him--when she does talk--right enough.

BEN. She does nothin' all day long now but sit and sew--and then
she cries to herself without makin' no noise. I've seen her.

THE STEWARD. Aye, I could hear her through the door a while back.

BEN (_tiptoes over to the door and listens_). She's cryin' now.

THE STEWARD (_furiously--shaking his fist_). God send his soul to
hell for the devil he is!

(_There is the noise of someone coming slowly down the
companionway stairs._ THE STEWARD _hurries to his stacked-up
dishes. He is so nervous from fright that he knocks off the top
one, which falls and breaks on the floor. He stands aghast,
trembling with dread. BEN is violently rubbing off the organ with
a piece of cloth which he has snatched from his pocket_, CAPTAIN
KEENEY _appears in the doorway on right and comes into the cabin,
removing his fur cap as he does so. He is a man of about forty,
around five-ten in height, but looking much shorter on account of
the enormous proportions of his shoulders and chest. His face is
massive and deeply lined, with gray-blue eyes of a bleak
hardness, and a tightly clenched, thin-lipped mouth. His thick
hair is long and gray. He is dressed in a heavy blue jacket and
blue pants stuffed into his sea-boots._

_He is followed into the cabin by the_ SECOND MATE, _a rangy
six-footer with a lean, weatherbeaten face._ The MATE _is dressed
about the same as the captain. He is a man of thirty or so._)

KEENEY. (_Comes toward the_ STEWARD--_with a stern look on his
face. The_ STEWARD _is visibly frightened and the stack of dishes
rattles in his trembling hands._ KEENEY _draws back his fist and
the_ STEWARD _shrinks away. The fist is gradually lowered and_
KEENEY _speaks slowly._) 'T would be like hitting a worm. It Is
nigh on two bells, Mr. Steward, and this truck not cleared yet.

THE STEWARD (_stammering_). Y-y-yes, sir.

KEENEY. Instead of doin' your rightful work ye've been below here
gossipin' old woman's talk with that boy. (_To_ BEN _fiercely_) Get
out o' this, you! Clean up the chartroom. (BEN _darts past the_
MATE _to the open doorway._) Pick up that dish, Mr. Steward!

THE STEWARD (_doing so with difficulty_). Yes, sir.

KEENEY. The next dish you break, Mr. Steward, you take a