rise, as the lady's manner
this morning, although civil, was of a temperature to put the chill of
death upon presumptuous hope.

After a formal good-by to the uncle, Pats climbed into the little boat
and assisted the lady to a seat in the stern. Then he turned about and
held forth his hands toward the maid. She stepped back and shook her
head.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "There is no danger."

"But I am not going ashore, sir."

He looked toward Miss Marshall, who explained: "Louise is not coming
with us. She goes on to Quebec, where I am to meet her in a fortnight."

So they pushed away and rowed off into the fog, waving adieus to the
little group that watched them from the _Maid of the North_. Both
kept their eyes upon the steamer until a veil of gauze, ethereal but
opaque, closed in between them. The sun, still near the horizon, lit up
the mist with a golden light, and Pats with the haughty lady seemed
floating away into enchanted space.

Nearing the shore they made out more clearly the coast ahead. This
fragment of primeval forest, its rocky sides rising fifty feet or
thereabouts above the water, was crowned with gigantic pines, their
tops, above the mist, all glowing in the morning light. The two
passengers regarded this scene in silence, impressed by its savage
beauty. The little pier at which they landed, neglected and
unsubstantial, seemed barely strong enough to bear their weight.

"Is this the only landing-place?" Pats demanded of the boatswain.

"No, sir. There's another one farther in, but the tide isn't right for
it."

Just off the pier stood their trunks, and beside them two boxes and a
barrel. Of the three passengers, the gladdest to get ashore, if one
could judge by outward manifestations, was Solomon. He ran and barked
and wheeled about, jumping against his master as if to impart some of
his own enthusiasm. His joy, while less contagious than he himself
desired, produced one good result in causing the lady to unbend a
little. At first she merely watched him with amusement, then talked and
played with him, but not freely and with abandon, only so far as was
proper with a dog whose master had become a suspicious character. As the
life-boat disappeared toward the invisible steamer, Pats turned to his
companion.

"Welcome to this island, Miss Marshall. I am now the host--and your
humble and obedient vassal. Shall I hurry on ahead and send down for the
baggage? Or shall we go on together and sur