I looked sharply at Esau, for these words of his impressed me. I had often wished that Gunson knew of what we had found, for I thought that perhaps he was struggling on without a bit of good fortune. The thoughts passed from my mind directly, as Esau began to make casts with his line here and there, as if fishing in the grass.
“Well, I don’t mind,” he said. “Turn farmer, eh?—and plant trees, and cut trees down, and build a house. All right. It will be good enough, and you and me will go and shoot and fish. I shall like it. Shall we have old Quong?”
“I suppose so, if he’ll stay. There, let’s go on fishing, and take back some trout for Mr Raydon’s tea. I do feel so idle and helpless. Do you think he ever feels that we are staying too long?”
“Dunno,” said Esau. “I should if I was him.”
These words made me feel very low-spirited, and that night I broached the subject to Mr Raydon, apologising for being there so helpless and weak, and ending by asking him if I had not better go down to the mouth of the river again.
He looked at me searchingly.
“Tired of this place?” he said.
“Oh no,” I replied. “I have been very happy here.”
“Then why do you talk of going?”
“Because I feel as if I must be a burden to you.”