-the
west that was the portal of my enterprise. What was her thought? I
must not let myself trap it unaware. I gave a long, low call; the call
of the loon as he skirts the marshes in the twilight.

She turned instantly and saw us. I bent forward. The drabbled plume
of my hat swept the water, and I heard Labarthe curse under his breath,
and beg me remember that the canoe was laden. But just then I had no
caution in me.

The woman's arms dropped. She had a moment of indecision, and she
stood looking at me with the sunset in her face and eyes. Then she
suddenly thrust out both hands towards me across the stretch of water.
I could see her smooth-skinned brown fingers, and one wore my ring.
She bade me welcome. I bent to my paddle, and would have crashed the
canoe up to the shore.

But she forestalled me. She was already on her way back to the camp,
and if she knew that I had started toward her she did not let me see.
So I had, perforce, to follow. She walked with the free, gliding step
of a woman whose foot had been trained on polished surfaces. I watched
her, and let Labarthe paddle our way through the reeds.

We reached the camp, deafened by Pierre's bellow of greeting. The
woman had kept pace with us, and stood waiting for us to disembark.
She was breathing quickly and the blood was in her brown cheeks; her
great eyes were frankly opened and shining. I pushed by the men and
bent to kiss her hand.

"Madame, thank you for my welcome home."

She bowed, and I caught the perfume of a rose on her breast.
"Monsieur, we are all rejoiced to see you safe." Her tone took,
half-whimsically, the note of court and compliment. The fingers that I
still held were berry stained. She showed them to me with a laugh and
a light word, and so made excuse to draw them away. Her hair had grown
long enough to blow into her eyes, and she smoothed a soft loose wave
of it as she questioned me about my voyage.

I was new to the wonder of seeing her there, so answered her stupidly.
For all my day-dreams of the week that I had been away I was not
prepared for her. And indeed she had altered. The strain of fear and
incessant watchfulness was removed, and with the lessening of that
tension had come a pliancy of look and gesture, a richness of tone that
found me unprepared. I made but a poor figure. It was as well that
work clamored at me, and that I had to turn away and direct the men.

We ate our supper at the time of the