I get frequent news of hishealth, you know. It was
miserable weather in that first week of June, wet and raw,with a searching east
wind. Im not blaming you, Sir Edward, he told me.
Goodeves voice became shrill,he dropped it to a
whisper, and then raised it to an unmeaningshout . Not scepticism, for he could not
disbelieve, but aresolution to face up to whatever was in store.
They became friends at once, but their friendship
seemedslow to ripen into anything deeper. For four years he had faced thedaily
possibility, even the likelihood, of death.
Never have I listened to anything more
painful.
He could not fit his passion into hisscheme of
life, so his scheme of life went by the board. He, who had got well ahead of other
people, had now decorouslyfallen back into the ranks.
He sent forchampagne and drank a little, lifting up
his glass as if he weregiving a toast. He had found no philosophy to comfort him,and
no super-induced oblivion lasted long. But on the ninth he askedeagerly for
telegrams, as if he expected one of moment. Charles has got mixed up with a poor
lot, he said. He moved listlessly and wearily, and his eyeswere sick.
His comrade in the noyades was not likely todrown,
and his buoyancy might sustain them both.
Then he took to intervening briefly in every kind
of discussion.
He tried to besceptical, but he had never had much
gift for scepticism.
So he got rid of his huntersand fled from Birkham.
Iwas breakfasting in the hotel, when to my surprise I saw Goodeve atan adjacent
table.
Chatto, no doubt, thoughtit a tribute to his
charms, and being a simple soul, he returnedit. Ive heard that yarn, butI dont
believe it. You cant stand much more of that, I told him.
Not a bad fellow, he said, and then, when he saw my
wonderingeyes, he laughed. But Goodeve here used to splash about something awful.
There issomething on his mind, and I dont believe that its Pamela. But now the
latter did not meanmuch to him, since his present life would soon be over . For a
moment there was alarm in his eyes.
Anger was succeeded by a fear which was
almostpanic.
If weget bad weather, so much the better, for Im a
rotten sailor. Bob here iscoming with me to Macrihanish, and were going to make a
week ofit. These were my last words to him, and I put my hand on his shoulder.