itself for a leap toward the shore, Madge
caught at the cloak and dragged it away from the face, and for a brief
instant she saw the face of a boy a little older perhaps than she was.
It was a wild and elfish face, while a pair of ears, ending almost in
points, stuck up through the masses of thick, curly hair that covered
his head. But before she could get a distinct impression of his face
the young man was gone, racing up the low embankment with great leaps,
like a hunted deer.

Madge turned to their chaperon, waiting for the latter to offer some
explanation. Miss Jones said nothing, but regarded Madge with
distressed eyes.

"Who was your visitor? I did not know that any one knew we were
anchored here. We did not know, ourselves, that we were to land here
until we spied the place. Was that boy a stranger to you? Why didn't
you call one of us if he frightened you?" Madge's tone was distinctly
unfriendly.

Miss Jones only shook her head. Big tears were rolling down her
cheeks. She was trembling so that Madge, much against her will, took
her by the arm and assisted her across the deck.

"I can tell you nothing, Madge," was the teacher's husky reply. "I am
perfectly aware that you have a right to know. Still, I simply can't
tell you. But I can go away, if you like, and I will, as soon as you
can get some one else to chaperon you. Only I must ask you not to tell
the other girls what has happened to-night, or why I must leave you.
You see, dear," Miss Jones ended wistfully, "the other girls are fond
of me. You never have been. I can not bear to lose their faith and
trust."

There was a significant silence after this remark.

"Did you really see who it was with me?" Miss Jones questioned
anxiously. "Would you know the face if you saw it again?"

"I don't know," was Madge's stiff reply, "but I believe I should."

"Won't you promise me that you will not tell the other girls?" Miss
Jones whispered, as they crossed the deck and came to the door of their
little cabin. "I am not asking you to do anything wrong, only asking
you to trust me and believe that I do not think I am doing a wrong by
not taking you into my confidence."

"Very well, I will keep your secret," returned Madge slowly. "I do not
wish you to leave us, Miss Jones. I wish you to stay and take care of
us, just as you planned to do."

"You are only saying that, dear, because you know I have no other place
to go for my holiday, and you a