“I’ll start my letters off to Fort Good Hope at sun-up,” Gault went on. “Unfortunately my steamboat has gone up to the head of navigation, and won’t be back for a month; but by the time the messenger reaches the post, my launch will have returned from carrying Mr. Ogilvie down to the Chutes. The launch can make the Crossing in a week. Gruber will be waiting there.”
It all sounded so businesslike and proper, Loseis could take no exception to it. The smooth voice, arranging everything, afflicted her with a sort of despair.
After some desultory talk, Gault arose, saying: “With your permission I will go and write my letters now, so that Conacher may see them before he goes.”
Loseis bowed in acquiescence. She thought: I can talk to Conacher while he is away. But Gault looked sharply from one to another, and added in his polite way: “I’d be glad of your help in composing them, Conacher.” Loseis’ heart sunk. The two went out together arm in arm. Moale followed his master as a matter of course.
Loseis was left staring into the fire. Mary-Lou came to the door and looked at her full of loving solicitude; but Loseis made believe not to know that she was there. The simple Mary-Lou could be of no help to her in this situation. Loseis, whose nature it was to act instantaneously without thinking, was all at sea on this flood of words. Everything was mixed up in her mind. Maybe Gault is a true man, she thought; maybe he means what he says. Conacher is satisfied. And if he is lying what can I do anyhow? I know nothing.
In due course they returned (without Moale) and the letters were laid before Loseis. It appeared that Gault packed a little typewriter in his outfit, and Loseis, though she looked at the letters indifferently, secretly marveled at the neat clear printing. How could one contend against a man like this! She scarcely read the letters. The lengthy sentences merely dizzied her.
It goes without saying that they were admirably expressed letters. There is no need of reproducing them here, since Gault had not the slightest intention of letting them reach their destinations. They were to be conveniently lost en route.
“I am satisfied if Conacher is,” said Loseis.
“Mr. Gault has thought of everything,” said Conacher.
Soon Conacher said, affecting to make light of his heavy heart: “Well, I’ve sent my men down to launch the dug-out. I must be getting aboard.”