began to adjust themselves and his blood to flow less heatedly
through his veins. For the first time, too, the magnitude of his
promise--of what he had undertaken--began to impress itself upon
him. He had thought that in asking him to fight for her she had
spoken with the physical definition of that word in mind. But at
the outset she had plunged him into mystery. If she had asked him
to draw the automatic at his side and leap into battle with a
dozen of his kind he would not have been surprised. He had
expected something like that. But this other--her first demand
upon him! What could it mean? Shrouded in mystery, bound by his
oath of honour to make no effort to uncover her secret, he was to
accompany her back to her home AS HER HUSBAND! And after that--at
the end--he was to go out into the forest, and die--for her, for
all who had known him. He wondered if she had meant these words
literally, too. He smiled, and slowly his eyes scanned the lake.
He was already beginning to reason, to guess at the mystery which
she had told him he could not unveil if he lived a thousand years.
But he could at least work about the edges of it.

Suddenly he concentrated his gaze at a point on the lake three
quarters of a mile away. It was close to shore, and he was certain
that he had seen some movement there--a flash of sunlight on a
shifting object. Probably he had caught a reflection of light from
the palmate horn of a moose feeding among the water-lily roots. He
leaned forward, and shaded his eyes. In another moment his heart
gave a quicker throb. What he had seen was the flash of a paddle.
He made out a canoe, and then two. They were moving close in-
shore, one following the other, and apparently taking advantage of
the shadows of the forest. Philip's hand shifted to the butt of
his automatic. After all there might be fighting of the good old-