thing had happened to him, for she had noted Thirlwell's reserve.
Perhaps bitter disappointment had broken him down; she did not know and
would not ask. It was enough that he had loved her; she was satisfied
with this.

CHAPTER XXIII

STRANGE'S LEGACY

It was afternoon when the canoes slid out from the forest on to the
broad expanse of the Shadow River. The day was calm and hot, although
the sky was covered with soft gray clouds, that subdued the light. The
river had shrunk, for the driftwood on the bank stood high above the
water level, and Thirlwell had only known it sink so low during the
summer when Strange was drowned. For all that, the current ran fast and
the long rows of pines rolled swiftly back to meet the canoes as they
floated down. The trees had lost their rigid outline and melted gently
into the blue distance, while the savage landscape was softened by the
play of tender light and shadow.

Agatha was glad that Thirlwell did not talk and thought he knew she
wanted to be quiet. This was a day she set apart from other days when it
came round, for it was in the evening her father's canoe capsized. Since
they drifted out on the Shadow, she had followed the track of his last
voyage, and wondered with poignant tenderness what he had thought and
felt. Somehow she did not believe he had come back embittered by
disappointment, and it was perhaps strange that she did not feel sad.
Indeed, she felt nothing of the shrinking she had feared. Although her
eyes filled now and then, her mood was calm, and sorrow had yielded to a
gentle melancholy.

In the meantime, the current swept them on, past rippling eddies and
rings of foam about half-covered rocks, and presently a gray trail of
smoke stretched far along the bank. Thirlwell said the woods were
burning; they often burned in summer, though nobody knew how the fires
were lighted. By degrees the trees got dimmer, but the water shone with
a pale gleam and presently the moon came out between drifting clouds.
Then as they swept round a bend a throbbing Agatha had heard for some
time got suddenly loud and she glanced at Thirlwell.

"The Grand Rapid," he said. "The water's very low; it's quite safe."

Agatha knew he did not think she was afraid; he had tactfully pretended
to misunderstand her glance, and she fixed her eyes ahead. The shadows
were deeper and the forest was indistinct, but it was not dark. Besides,
the moon was getting bright and threw a glitteri