Clover was busy within, washing the supper dishes. She
called out a cheery greeting, to which Eleanor responded briefly but
with as pleasant a tone as she could muster. She could not but distrust
her companion and gaoler, could not but fear that something vile and
terrible lurked beneath that good-natured semblance: else why need the
woman have become _his_ creature?

"You ain't hungry again?"

"No," said Eleanor, lingering on the porch, reluctant to enter.

"Lonely?"

"No...."

"You needn't be; your pa'll be home by three o'clock, he says."

Eleanor said nothing. Abruptly a thought had entered her mind, bringing
hope; something she had almost forgotten had recurred with tremendous
significance.

"Tired? I'll go fix up your room soon 's I'm done here, if you want to
lay down again."

"No; I'm in no hurry. I--I think I'll go for another little walk round
the island."

"Help yourself," the woman called after her heartily; "I'll be busy for
about half an hour, and then we can take our chairs out on the porch and
watch the moon come up and have a real good, old-fashioned gossip...."

Eleanor lost the sound of her voice as she turned swiftly back round the
house. Then she stopped, catching her breath with delight. It was
true--splendidly true! The rowboat had been left behind.

It rode about twenty yards out from the end of the dock, made fast to
the motor-boat mooring. The oars were in it; Ephraim had left them
carelessly disposed, their blades projecting a little beyond the stern.
And the water was so shallow at the mooring that the man had been able
to pole in with a single oar, immersing it but half its length! An oar,
she surmised, was six feet long; that argued an extreme depth of water
of three feet--say at the worst three and a half. Surely she might dare
to wade out, unmoor the boat and climb in--if but opportunity were
granted her!

But her heart sank as she considered the odds against any such attempt.
If only the night were to be dark; if only Mrs. Clover were not to wait
up for her husband and her employer; if only the woman were not her
superior physically, so strong that Eleanor would be like a child in her
hands; if only there were not that awful threat of vitriol ...!

Nevertheless, in the face of these frightful deterrents, she steeled her
resolution. Whatever the consequences, she owed it to herself to be
vigilant for her chance. She promised herself to be wakeful and
watchful: possibly M