ierre, was on his way
across the lake. Pouf! But he'll stir his lazy bones, once he touches
this shore! Yes, yes, indeed. Run and hail him, maybe."

So Margot had gone, again and again, and had returned to sit beside
her uncle's bed, anxious and watchful.

Often, also, she had paddled across the narrows and made her way
swiftly to a little clearing on her uncle's land, where, among giant
trees, old Joseph Wills, the Indian guide and faithful friend of all
on Peace Island, made one of his homes. Once Mr. Dutton had nursed
this red man through a dangerous illness, and had kept him in his own
home for many weeks thereafter. He would have been the very nurse they
now needed, in their turn, could he have been found. But his cabin was
closed, and on its doorway, under the family sign-picture of a turtle
on a rock, he had printed in dialect, what signified his departure for
a long hunting trip.

Now, as Angelique advised, she resolved to try once more; and hurrying
to the shore, pushed her canoe into the water and paddled swiftly
away. She had taken the neglected Reynard with her and Tom had invited
himself to be a party of the trip; and in the odd but sympathetic
companionship, Margot's spirits rose again.

"It must be as Angelique says. The long lane will turn. Why have I
been so easily discouraged? I never saw my precious uncle ill before,
and that is why I have been so frightened. I suppose anybody gets thin
and says things, when there is fever. But he's troubled about
something. He wants to do something that neither of us understand.
Unless---- Oh! I believe I do understand! My head is clearer out here
on the water, and I know, I know! it is just about the time of year
when he goes away on those long trips of his. And we've been so
anxious we never remembered. That's it. That surely is it. Then, of
course, Joe will be back now or soon. He always stays on the island
when uncle goes and he'll remember. Oh! I'm brighter already, and I
guess, I believe, it is as Angelique claims--God won't take away so
good a man as uncle and leave me alone. Though--I am not alone! I have
a father! I have a father, somewhere, if I only knew--all in good
time--and I'm growing gladder and gladder every minute."

She could even sing to the stroke of her paddle and she skimmed the
water with increasing speed. Whatever the reason for her growing
cheerfulness, whether the reaction of youth or a prescience of
happiness to come, the result was