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Updated: May 28, 2025
Again Wyllard stood silent. Then he turned to her with a strong restraint in his face. "Gregory is a friend of mine," he said, "there is, at least, one very good reason why I should remember it, but it seems that somehow he hadn't the wit to keep you. Well, I can only wait, but when the time seems ripe I shall ask you again.
Failing that, we must try for one of the Western Aleutians." The others concurred in this, and very fortunately the breeze kept to the west and south, for Wyllard had very grave doubts as to whether he could have thrashed the schooner to windward through a steep head sea.
To make things worse, they were drenched with rain half the time, and trails of dingy mist obscured their path, but they toiled on stubbornly through every obstacles, though it was only by the tensest effort that Wyllard kept pace with his companion. The gaunt, long-haired Lewson seemed proof against physical weariness, and there was seldom any change in the expression of his grim, lined face.
Anyway, we can fix the thing up later. I won't keep you from your friends." Wyllard went out and left him, and though he did not see Mrs. Hastings just then he came upon Agatha sitting outside the house. She glanced at his face when he sat down beside her. "Ah," she said, "you have had the summons." Wyllard nodded. "Yes," he said, "that man was the skipper of a schooner I once sailed in.
It's some years since she was much in his company." "Hawtrey is not a man to change." "That," said Wyllard, "is just the trouble. I've no doubt he's much the same, but one could fancy that Miss Ismay has changed a good deal since she last saw him. She'll look for considerably more than she was probably content with then." "In any case, it isn't your affair."
Hastings for the fortnight," said Wyllard. "Sproatly" and he signed to the man in the skin coat "will you get Miss Rawlinson's baggage into your waggon?" The man took off his fur cap. "If Miss Rawlinson would like to see Mrs. Sandberg, I'll drive her round," he suggested. "We'll catch you up in a league or so. Gregory has a bit of patching to do on his off-side trace."
Wyllard fancied there were sailormen and sealers in Vancouver and down Puget Sound who would have gone with him, but there was a certain probability of their discussing their exploits afterwards in the saloons ashore, which was about the last thing that he desired. It appeared essential that he should avoid notoriety as much as possible.
Wyllard pushed out into the waste Pacific, and once when a beautiful big white mail boat reeled by him, driving with streaming bows into an easterly gale, he sent back a message to his friends upon the prairie.
There was something in your eyes that seemed to encourage me." "To encourage you?" "Yes," Wyllard assented gravely, "I think that expresses it.
"Well?" he said sharply. Dampier made a grimace. "I'm going out to heave her round. If we'd any sense in us we'd square off the boom then, and leg it away across the Pacific for Vancouver." "In that case," said Wyllard, "somebody would lose his bonus." Dampier swung round on him with a flash in his eyes. "The bonus!" he said.
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