"I had just been dreaming that that horrid man came across in the night and murdered us both. It was such a relief to see you alive again."
"No fear of his venturing out in this weather. Those screaming birds get on his nerves. He'll be sitting drinking, and cursing them in the most awful Gaelic he can twist his tongue to. This weather will probably last a couple of days. Then it will slack up, and just when you're thinking it's all gone it will come back worse than ever. Fortunately we've got—— By Jove!"—and he ran hastily up the companion, unbolted the door and ran out on deck. The gale came whuffling down on the fire and scattered the white ashes in a cloud, and set the silken drapery of the walls rustling wildly. The shrill clamour of the birds sounded very close, and The Girl sat anxiously wondering.
He came back in a minute, empty-handed and disconsolate. "I just remembered my fish. I left two up there for breakfast, but the birds have had them. They're as thick on the deck as bees on a comb, hoping for more."
"Is that all? I was afraid that man was coming and you'd heard him."
"It means living on pork till the storm passes."
"That is nothing. We shall enjoy the other things all the more later on."
"I'm wondering all the time how Macro is getting on——" he said, pulling out his pipe and filling it.
"Why trouble about him? He would not trouble about us if we were starving."
"I don't suppose he would.... I suppose it comes of my being so in the habit of helping people through their bodily troubles."
"It is wasted on him. He would not let you help him if you could."