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Updated: May 1, 2025
He was using a damp cloth, with a pungent medicated smell. Dual odors familiar to every man who has ever been in hospital assailed MacRae's nostrils. Wherever that damp cloth touched a cut it burned. MacRae listened drowsily. He had not the strength or the wish to do anything else. "Heart action's normal. Respiration and temperature, ditto," he heard above him.
I have got them to leave our machine in its place on the chance that you might say something that would give you away. Gianesi suspects nothing. Wire as usual, at about half-past two in the morning, when you mean it for me. 'That ought to be good enough, said Logan approvingly, while the hammers and the caber, under Mr. Macrae's directions, were thundering on the door of Blake's room.
As a matter of course, without complaint, with unprotesting patience. So did Gower. That did not fit Jack MacRae's conception of the man. If he had not known Gower he would have set him down as a fat, good-natured, kindly man with an infinite capacity for hard, disagreeable work. He never attempted to talk to MacRae. He spoke now and then. But there was no hint of rancor in his silences.
Jack MacRae knew Horace Gower only as a short, stout, elderly man of wealth and consequence, a power in the salmon trade. He knew a little more of the Gower clan now than he did before the war. MacRae had gone overseas with the Seventh Battalion. His company commander had been Horace Gower's son. Certain aspects of that young man had not heightened MacRae's esteem for the Gower family.
It was MacRae's first really close contact with the slender, wonderfully preserved lady whose life had touched his father's so closely in the misty long ago. He regarded her with a reflective interest. She must have been very beautiful then, he thought. She was almost beautiful still.
He was a typical Gower, a second edition of his father, save that his face was less suggestive of power, less heavily marked with sullenness. He glanced with blank indifference at Jack MacRae, passed within six feet and walked along the path which ran around the head of the Cove. MacRae watched him. He would cross between the boathouse and the roses in MacRae's dooryard.
When we add that a steam yacht of great size and comfort, doing an incredible number of knots an hour on the turbine system, lay at anchor in the sea loch, we have indicated the main peculiarities of Mr. Macrae's rural establishment. To Castle Skrae, being such as we have described, Lady Bude and Merton returned from their sentimental prowl.
After a time they ascended above the level where the superheated atmosphere played its pranks, and came riding up the ridge in their true presentment. When they got within shouting distance we stepped into the sunlight and hailed them. From the moment that they jerked up their horses at MacRae's call, I had an odd sense of impending trouble.
But I sent her to Nanaimo an hour after she landed us. Are you Donald MacRae's boy?" "Yes," MacRae said. "Thank you. That's all." He had said his say and got his answer. He turned to go. Betty Gower put a detaining hand on his arm. "Listen," she put in eagerly. "Is there anything any of us could do to help? Nursing or or anything?" MacRae shook his head. "There is a girl with him," he answered.
They no longer held salmon only a few of the old-timers for MacRae's carriers. It was nothing to them who made a profit or suffered a loss. Only a few of the older men wondered privately how long MacRae could stand it and what would happen when he gave up. MacRae met every raise Folly Bay made. He saw bluebacks go to a dollar ten, then to a dollar fifteen.
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