brought the canoe right under his rock, which the tide was now high
enough to allow her to do.

"If you like," she answered doubtfully. "My hands are a little sore,
and, of course," with a glance at his broad shoulders, "you are much
stronger. But if you are not used to it I dare say that I should get on
as well as you."

"Nonsense," he said sharply. "I will not allow you to paddle me for five
miles."

She yielded without another word, and very gingerly shifted her seat so
that her back was towards the bow of the canoe, leaving him to occupy
the paddling place opposite to her.

Then he handed her his gun, which, together with the dead birds, she
carefully stowed in the bottom of the frail craft. Next, with great
caution, he slid down the rock till his feet rested in the canoe.

"Be careful or you will upset us," she said, leaning forward and
stretching out her hand for him to support himself by.

Then it was, as he took it, that he for the first time really saw her
face, with the mist drops hanging to the bent eyelashes, and knew how
beautiful it was.



CHAPTER III