Without another word Croisset led the way. The wind grew stronger
with each minute's progress. Shouting for Jean to hold his canoe
for a space, Philip steadied his own canoe while he spoke to the
girl.

"Come back to me as quietly as you can, Josephine," he said. "Pass
the dunnage ahead of you to take the place of your weight. If
anything happens, I want you near me."

Cautiously Josephine did as he bade her, and as she added slowly
to the ballast in the bow she drew little by little nearer to
Philip, Her hand touched an object in the bottom of the canoe as
she came close to him. It was one of his moccasins. She saw now
his naked throat and chest. He had stripped off his heavy woollen
shirt as well as his footwear. He reached out, and his hand
touched her lightly as she huddled down in front of him.

"Splendid!" he laughed. "You're a little brick, Josephine, and the
best comrade in a canoe that I ever saw. Now if we go over all
I've got to do is to swim ashore with you. Is it good walking to
Adare House?"

He did not hear her reply; but a fresh burst of the wind sent a
loose strand of her hair back into his face, and he was happy.
Happy in spite of a peril which neither he nor Jean would have
thought of facing alone. In the darkness he could no longer see
Croisset or his canoe. But Jean's shout came back to him every
minute on the wind, and over Josephine's head he answered. He was
glad that it was so dark the girl could not see what was ahead of
them now. Once or twice his own breath stopped short, when it