"what
became of those two gentlemen."

It was evident that we had betrayed ourselves to this young girl.

She glanced at us again, and perhaps she noticed in our fascinated gaze
an expression akin to terror, for suddenly she laughed--such a clear,
sweet, silvery little laugh!

"For my part," she said, "I wish they had come with us. I like--men."

With that she bade us goodnight very politely and went off to her tent,
leaving us with our hats pressed against our stomachs, attempting by the
profundity of our bows to indicate the depth of our gratitude.

"_There's_ a girl!" exclaimed Brown, as soon as she had disappeared
behind her tent flaps. "She'll never let on to Medusa, Xantippe,
Cassandra and Company. I _like_ that girl, Smith."

"You're not the only one imbued by such sentiments," said I.

He smiled a fatuous and reminiscent smile. He certainly was good-looking.
Presently he said:

"She has the most delightful way of gazing at a man--"

"I've noticed," I said pleasantly.

"Oh. Did she happen to glance at _you_ that way?" he inquired. I wanted
to beat him.

All I said was:

"She's certainly some kitten." Which bottled that young man for a while.

We lay on the bank of the tiny lake, our backs against a huge pine-tree,
watching the last traces of colour fading from peak and tree-top.

"Isn't it queer," I said, "that not a trout has splashed? It can't be
that there are no fish in the lake."

"There _are_ such lakes."

"Yes, very deep ones. I wonder how deep this is."

"We'll be out at sunrise with our reel of piano wire and take soundings,"
he said. "The heavy artillery won't wake until they're ready to be loaded
with flap-jacks."

I shuddered:

"They're fearsome creatures, Brown. Somehow, that resolute and bony one
has inspired me with a terror unutterable."

"Mrs. Batt?"

"Yes."

He said seriously:

"She'll make a horrid outcry when she asks for her knitting. What are you
going to tell her?"

"I shall say that Indians ambuscaded us while she was asleep, and carried
off all those things."

"You lie very nicely, don't you?" he remarked admiringly.

"_In vitium ducit culpae fuga_," said I. "Besides, they don't really need
those articles."

He laughed. He didn't seem to be very much afraid of Mrs. Batt.

It had grown deliciously dusky, and myriads of stars were coming out.
Little by little the lake lost its shape in the darkness, until only an
irregular, star-set area of quiet water