Part 22 (1/2)
”Had a letter from the company today,” Pilchard observed, suddenly.
”That so?”
”They're going to send a fellow down from Frisco on the steamer that touches on the 25th. Everything plays into their hands. Steamer reaches here the day the contract expires.”
”Well, that's all right.”
”They request that I meet the fellow and show him around.”
”That's easy, too.”
Pilchard breathed smoke through his nose in his self-possessed way, and said nothing more, until Swan suddenly broke out:
”Well, I for one won't be sorry to get out of this hole. I'll get the job done, of course, but we've just had a terrible setback. I think Peele's dying.”
”Lord!”
”I came away from him only half an hour ago. He may last through the night, but I doubt it. Anyhow, if he lives or dies, we're devilish pressed for time. I'm beginning to think we'll have to work at night, too.”
”At night?”
”There's a full moon. Here she comes now.” Swan looked at the full moon, which, as the darkness increased, grew in radiance.
Pilchard breathed more smoke through his nose, then said with a sigh: ”That's hard luck, Swan. I'm sorry.”
”Hey?”
”And yet it's a lucky thing that you're as strong as you are. It's a lucky thing you haven't got the responsibilities at home that I have.”
”I don't see what you mean.”
”Why, you know I'm engaged! I'm as good as married. That poor girl's got everything ready for the wedding. You met her that day last year you came up to Maine before we left New York.”
”Yes, I met her.”
”And you remember how much she thought of me?” Pilchard spoke slowly.
It was impossible to tell why he did so. Was it because he did not care to discuss the woman he loved with an outsider like Swan, or was it because he was going on tiptoe, because he wondered what he must say next, because he was waiting, hoping that something unexpected would develop?
Swan, however, dropped the question of Pilchard's marriage.
”You mean, I suppose, that you won't work at night.”
”I can't. I'm not well enough.”
Swan grunted and sighed and stretched all his limbs, shaking his great shoulders as if he were trying to shake out the ague. Then he cleared his throat again and turned to Pilchard.
”See here, Pilchard, it's time we came to some understanding.”
”Understanding?” Pilchard queried in a surprised voice.