who had deceived him with his calm equanimity and his affected
preference for Maggie, to conceal his deliberate understanding with
Cicely. What was he doing here? Was he a double traitor, and now
trying to deceive HER--as he had him? And Maggie here! This sudden
return--this preconcerted meeting. It was infamy!

For a moment he remained stupefied, and then, with a mechanical
instinct, plunged his head and face in the lazy-flowing water, and then
once again rose cool and collected. The half-mad distraction of his
previous resolve had given way to another, more deliberate, but not
less desperate determination. He knew now WHY he came there--WHY he
had brought his gun--why his boat had stopped when it did!

Lying flat in the bottom, he tore away fragments of the crumbling bank
to fill his frail craft, until he had sunk it to the gunwale, and below
the low level of the Marsh. Then, using his hands as noiseless
paddles, he propelled this rude imitation of a floating log slowly past
the line of vision, until the tongue of bushes had hidden him from
view. With a rapid glance at the darkening flat, he then seized his
gun, and springing to the spongy bank, half crouching half crawling
through reeds and tussocks, he made his way to the brush. A foot and
eye less experienced would have plunged its owner helpless in the black
quagmire. At one edge of the thicket he heard hoofs trampling the
dried twigs. Calvert's horse was already there, tied to a skirting
alder.

He ran to the house, but, instead of attracting attention by ascending
the creaking steps, made his way to the piles below the rear gallery
and climbed to it noiselessly. It was the spot where the deserter had
ascended a year ago, and, like him, he could see and hear all that
passed distinctly. Calvert stood near the open door as if departing.
Maggie stood between him and the window, her face in shadow, her hands
clasped tightly behind her. A profound sadness, partly of the dying
day and waning light, and partly of some vague expiration of their own
sorrow, seemed to encompass them. Without knowing why, a strange
trembling took the place of James Culpepper's fierce determination, and
a film of moisture stole across his staring eyes.

"When I tell you that I believe all this will pass, and that you will
still win your brother back to you," said Calvert's sad but clear
voice, "I will tell you why--although, perhaps, it is only a part of
that confidence you