out putting up the tent and furnishing it and
going into camp for the winter, I could not share their eagerness.
There was one other reticent figure at our fireside. Helena sat
silent, the head of Partial in her lap. I felt resentment that she
should steal from me even my dog. At last, having nothing better to
do, I picked up my gun, and slipping on my coat, started down the
beach, telling the boys that I was going alone, perhaps too far for
them to follow, with the purpose of making some sort of an exploration
of the island.

Moody and depressed, not in the least well satisfied with life, even
with matters thus so far more fortunate than we had so recently had
reason to expect, I walked along the hard sand, sometimes looking at
the long lines of wild fowl streaming in above the fresh-water lagoon,
but in reality thinking but little of these. I did not at first hear
the light step which came behind me on the sand.

CHAPTER XXXIV

IN WHICH IS NO RAPPROCHEMENT WITH THE FAIR CAPTIVE

"Harry!" I heard her call, and turned quickly. "Harry, wait!"

She came hurrying up toward me. I felt my color rise. Awkwardly, I
stood waiting, and did not greet her. I cast a quick glance the other
way down the beach. It would be a hundred yards before the first bend
of the shore-line would carry us behind the tall rushes. Meantime, we
were in full sight of all.

Partial, who had followed me when I whistled, now greeted her more
joyously than did his master.

"Yes?" said I dully; "I suppose you came to take away my dog from me,
didn't you? It was all that was left."

"Of course," said she coloring. "I didn't know but what Partial might
be hungry."

"It is I who am hungry, Helena," said I. "I have long been hungry--for
a look, a word."

She did not smile, showed not any trace of coquetry in her mien, but
paced on with me now down the beach. I suppose she knew when we had
turned the point of rushes, for now she laid her hand on my rough
canvas sleeve. It must have cost her effort to do that.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" said she after a time, since I still
remained moodily staring ahead. I did not answer, would not look at
her for a time, but at length she turned. She stood, I say, with her
hand on my arm, her chin raised fully, her serious eyes fixed on me.
The dark hair was blown all about her face. She had on over her long
white sweater a loose silk waterproof of some sort, which blew every
way, but did not distur