her wet hair and the drenching spray--"if anything should happen I
know you'd meet it gloriously. So I'm not afraid. And I want to go
home."

Philip turned to the half-breed, who had drifted a canoe length
away.

"We'll go on, Jean," he called. "We can make it by keeping close
inshore. Can you swim?"

"Oui, M'sieur; but Josephine--"

"I can swim with her," replied Philip, and Josephine saw the old
life and strength in his face again as she turned to the white-
capped seas ahead of them.

Hour after hour they fought their way on after that, the wind
rising stronger in their faces, the seas burying them deeper; and
each time that Josephine looked back she marvelled at the man
behind her, bare-headed, his hair drenched, his arms naked to the
elbows, and his clear gray eyes always smiling confidence at her
through the gloom of mist. Not until darkness was falling about
them did Jean drop near enough to speak again. Then he shouted:

"Another hour and we reach Snowbird River, M'sieur. That is four
miles from Adare House. But ahead of us the wind rushes across a
wide sweep of the lake. Shall we hazard it?"

"Yes, yes," cried the girl, answering for Philip. "We must go on!"