He made signs of going by boat in the direction of La Boca. Three other men had gathered about them to give counsel. Some of them suggested Giordano.
Hi turned to these men and asked, “Is Pedro Ruiz here? Pedro Ruiz?”
They did not understand what he meant. They repeated the syllables. All were courteous and eager to help, but they were puzzled by the words.
Enrique asked, “You want go La Boca?”
“Yes please, si,” Hi answered.
“Giordano,” the men repeated. “Giordano.”
Hi had a suspicion that “Giordano” meant to-morrow. There was, he knew, some foreign word like “Giordano” which meant either yesterday or to-morrow. It was “oggi” or “aujourd’hui” or some other word with “jour” in it. What would he do if there were to be no boat till to-morrow?
“This way Giordano,” Enrique said.
He led him to the end of the pier. Some birds were wheeling about the rosy light. From time to time they swerved down with exquisite white grace, which glowed into rose colour in the beam of the lamp, to snatch some fish from the pile. Enrique looked over the rail at the edge of the pier.
“Giordano,” he called.