tastrophe that happened up
here?"

While he wished to keep the information from her as long as possible, he
could not lie to her. "Yes," he said. "Don't ask any more."

She bowed as one who acknowledges the receipt of information not
personally important. "One more question; was he a good man, a man you
respected?"

"Oh, yes," he said quickly.

She looked puzzled. "Strange I should feel no sense of loss," she
murmured.

"You had been parted from him for a long time."

They fell silent. The charming spell that had bound them was effectually
broken. She shivered delicately, and announced her intention of going to
bed.

But in the morning she showed him a shining morning face. To arise
refreshed from sleep, hungry for one's breakfast, and eager for the
day's journey, was enough for her just now. She was living in her
instincts. Her instinct told her that Stonor loved her, and that
sufficed her. The dreadful things might wait.

Having ascended the last rapid, they found they could make better time
by paddling the dug-out, keeping close under the shore as the Kakisas
did, and cutting across from side to side on the inside of each bend to
keep out of the strongest of the current. The seating arrangement was
the same as at their start; Mary in the bow, Stonor in the stern, and
Clare facing Stonor. Thus all day long their eyes were free to dwell on
each other, nor did they tire. They had reached that perfect stage where
the eyes confess what the tongue dares not name; that charming stage of
folly when lovers tell themselves they are still safe because nothing
has been spoken. As a matter of fact it is with words that the way to
misunderstanding is opened. One cannot misunderstand happy eyes.
Meanwhile they were satisfied with chaffing each other.

"Martin, I wonder how old I am."

He studied her gravely. "I shouldn't say more than thirty-three or
four."

"You wretch! I'll get square with you for that! I can start with any age
I want. I'll be eighteen."

"That's all right, if you can get away with it. If I could keep you up
here awhile maybe you could knock off a little more."

"Oh, Martin, if one could only travel on this river for ever! It's so
blessed not to have to think of things!"

"Suit me all right. But I suppose Mary wants to see her kids."

"Let her go."

Her eyes fell under the rapt look that involuntarily leapt up in his. "I
mean we could get somebody else," she murmured.

Stonor pulled himsel