of air was stirring along the river. The moonlight shone through
the little cabin window, flooding the room with its radiance. Madge felt
that if she could only get a breath of air, she might be able to go to
sleep. Just now she was suffocating. Yet the other girls were breathing
gently. She slipped softly into her clothes, put on a long light coat,
tucked her hair under a boy's cap and stole silently out on the
houseboat deck. All was solemn and still. She was the only person awake
on either of the two boats. An almost tropical heat made the moon look
red and ominous. Madge was oppressed by its mysterious reflection on
the water. The shore seemed peaceful, deserted. She went noiselessly
down the gang plank. She walked up and down the bank, keeping the boats
in sight. However, the shore was not quiet. The ceaseless hum of the
August insects set her nerves on edge.

"Katy did, Katy did," the noise was insistent. To Madge's ears the name
was transposed. "David did, David did," it rang. Yet she did not really
believe that David had stolen Miss Betsey Taylor's money. If not David,
who else? Surely the money could never be found in the new hiding place
where she and Miss Taylor had stored it that afternoon. It was quite
secure from thievish fingers.

It was lonely along the river bank. The sudden hooting of an owl sent
her flying toward the houseboat. She waited a second before going
aboard. The "Water Witch" was floating peacefully on the water, tied to
the rail of the "Merry Maid!"

All at once the passionate love which Madge felt for the water, that she
believed to be an inheritance, woke in her. It was wrong and reckless in
her, yet the desire to be alone out there on the river was
uncontrollable. She went swiftly to their little rowboat, and without
making a single unnecessary sound she rowed straight out into the
moonlight that streamed across the water.

No one heard her or saw her leave the shelter of the two boats. Only
David, who was also awake, thought for an instant that he caught the
splash of a pair of oars skimming past the motor launch. He supposed it
to be some idle oarsman who lived along the river, and he never glanced
out of his cabin window.

Madge rowed for more than an hour in the golden moonlight, meeting no
one. A cool breeze sprang up. Her restlessness, impatience and suspicion
passed away. She felt that she would like to move on forever up this
silent river, near her well-loved Virginia shore