hat it would have to pass within twenty yards of
him.

From his ambuscade he looked out upon the approaching canoe. He was
puzzled by the slowness of its progress. At times it seemed to stand
still, and he could distinguish no movement at all among its occupants.
At first he thought they were undecided as to which course to pursue,
but a few minutes more sufficed to show that this was not the reason
for their desultory advance. The canoe was headed for the first
channel. The solution came when a low but clear whistle signaled over
the water. Almost instantly there came a responsive whistle from up the
channel.

Philip drew a quick breath, and a new sensation brought his teeth
together in sudden perplexity. It looked as though he had a bigger
fight before him than he had anticipated.

At the signal from up-stream he heard the quick dip of paddles, and the
canoe cut swiftly toward him. He drew back the hammer of Pierre's rule,
and cleared a little space through the reeds and grass so that his view
into the channel was unobstructed. Three or four well-directed shots, a
quick dash out into the stream, and he would possess Jeanne. This was
his first thought. It was followed by others, rapid as lightning, that
restrained his eagerness. The night-glow was treacherous to shoot by.
What if he should miss, or hit Jeanne--or in the sudden commotion and
destruction of his shots the canoe should be overturned? A single
error, the slightest mishap to himself, would mean the annihilation of
his hopes. Even if he succeeded in directing his shots with accuracy,
both himself and Jeanne would almost immediately be under fire from
those above.

He dropped back again behind the screen of reeds. The canoe drew
nearer. A moment more and it was almost abreast of him, and his heart
pounded like a swiftly beating hammer when he saw Jeanne in the stern.
She was leaning back as though unconscious. He could see nothing of her
face, but as the canoe passed within ten yards of his hiding-place he
saw the dark glow of her disheveled hair, which fell thickly over the
object against which she was resting. It was but a moment's view, and
they were gone. He had not looked at the three men in the canoe. His
whole being was centered upon Jeanne. He had seen no sign of life--no
movement in her body, not the flutter of a hand, and all his fears
leaped like brands of burning fire into his brain. He thought of the
inhuman plot which Lord Fitzhugh's letter