oars fell from her hand. The boat was broad and steady. I flung my leg
over and climbed in, panting hard. In truth I was out of breath. Barbara
cried, "You're safe!" and hid her face in her hands.

We were mad both of us, beyond a doubt, she sobbing there on the thwart,
I panting and dripping in the bows. Yet for a touch of such sweet
madness now, when all young nature was strung to a delicious contest,
and the blood spun through the veins full of life! Our boat lay
motionless on the sea, and the setting sun caught the undergrowth of
red-brown hair that shot through Barbara's dark locks. My own state was,
I must confess, less fair to look on.

I controlled my voice to a cold steadiness, as I wrung the water from my
clothes.

"This is a mighty silly business, Mistress Barbara," said I.

I had angled for a new outburst of fury, my catch was not what I looked
for. Her hands were stretched out towards me, and her face, pale and
tearful, pleaded with me.

"Simon, Simon, you were drowning! Through my--my folly! Oh, will you
ever forgive me? If--if you had come to hurt, I wouldn't have lived."

"Yet you were running away from me."

"I didn't dream that you'd follow. Indeed I didn't think that you'd risk
death." Then her eyes seemed to fall on my dripping clothes. In an
instant she snatched up the cloak that lay by her, and held it towards
me, crying "Wrap yourself in it."

"Nay, keep your cloak," said I, "I shall be warm enough with rowing. I
pray you, madame, tell me the meaning of this freak of yours."

"Nothing, nothing. I--Oh, forgive me, Simon. Ah, how I shuddered when I
looked round on the water and couldn't see you! I vowed to God that if
you were saved----." She stopped abruptly.

"My death would have been on your conscience?" I asked.

"Till my own death," she said.

"Then indeed," said I, "I'm very glad that I wasn't drowned."

"It's enough that you were in peril of it," she murmured woefully.

"I pray heaven," said I cheerfully, "that I may never be in greater.
Come, Mistress Barbara, sport for sport, trick for trick, feint for
feint. I think your intention of leaving me was pretty much as real as
this peril of drowning from which I have escaped."

Her hands, which still implored me, fell to her side. An expression of
wonder spread over her face.

"In truth, I meant to leave you," she said.

"And why, madame?"

"Because I burdened you."

"But you had consented to accept my aid."

"While you