had nothing to carry but his
favourite bow. Oliver was surprised that Felix did not first go to the
gardens and say good-bye to the Baron, or at least knock at the
Baroness's door and bid her farewell. But he made no remark, knowing
Felix's proud and occasionally hard temper. Without a word Felix left
the old place.

He rode forth from the North Barrier, and did not even so much as look
behind him. Neither he nor Oliver thought of the events that might
happen before they should again meet in the old familiar house! When the
circle is once broken up it is often years before it is reformed. Often,
indeed, the members of it never meet again, at least, not in the same
manner, which, perhaps, they detested then, and ever afterwards
regretted. Without one word of farewell, without a glance, Felix rode
out into the forest.

There was not much conversation on the trail to Heron Bay. The serfs
were still there in charge of the canoe, and were glad enough to see
their approach, and thus to be relieved from their lonely watch. They
launched the canoe with ease, the provisions were put on board, the
chest lashed to the mast that it might not be lost, the favourite bow
was also fastened upright to the mast for safety, and simply shaking
hands with Oliver, Felix pushed out into the creek. He paddled the canoe
to the entrance and out into the Lake till he arrived where the
south-west breeze, coming over the forest, touched and rippled the
water, which by the shore was perfectly calm.

Then, hoisting the sail, he put out the larger paddle which answered as
a rudder, took his seat, and, waving his hand to Oliver, began his
voyage. The wind was but light, and almost too favourable, for he had
determined to sail to the eastward; not for any specific reason, but
because there the sun rose, and that was the quarter of light and hope.
His canoe, with a long fore-and-aft sail, and so well adapted for
working into the wind, was not well rigged for drifting before a breeze,
which was what he was now doing. He had merely to keep the canoe before
the wind, steering so as to clear the bold headland of White Horse which
rose blue from the water's edge far in front of him. Though the wind was
light, the canoe being so taper and sharp at the prow, and the sail so
large in comparison, slipped from the shore faster than he at first
imagined.

As he steered aslant from the little bay outwards into the great Lake,
the ripples rolling before the win