drowned by Jamie's noise.
The boat was gone; the burning glory of sunset was slowly dying out, and
across the river came the first faint breath of the night. He was here
on a desolate island, with a woman who did not care for him, and he had
cared for her so much that his love was the very crown of his life. Her
indifference would not make any outward change in him. He was not the
kind of man to believe that his heart was broken, but he knew that he
should feel the want of her as long as he lived; he felt that he might
have risen to a higher level if she had put her hand in his and walked
by his side. At first he had not for a moment doubted that she could be
won. He had believed that she was meant for him; he had triumphed in
anticipation, but some nameless barrier had risen between them and
baffled him, and now it was all over. If the boat had not got loose and
drifted away, he would have rowed her back in a sullen silence which
would never have been broken again.

But there was no boat, and Elsie, still crooning over Jamie, did not yet
understand what had happened. When the boy had ceased bellowing for very
weariness, she suggested that they should all go home as quickly as they
could. The child had been over-excited and over-tired with his long day.

"It is not wise to kneel on the damp earth," said Arnold, with cold
tranquillity. "Let me advise you to get up and take Jamie into the hut.
The dew is beginning to fall."

"Into the hut?" repeated Elsie, rising from her knees and turning her
pale face towards him.

"Yes. The boat is gone."

"Gone! Then how shall we go back? What can we do?"

"I must think." His voice was still very quiet. "You had better take him
into the hut."

She obeyed in silence, half stupefied and bewildered after the agitation
she had undergone. The boy had sobbed himself into a drowsy state, and
staggered along the path supported by her arm. When they entered the hut
she laid him on the seat, and made a pillow of the old basket, covered
with her handkerchief. In a moment he was fast asleep.

When she came out of the little building Arnold was standing in the
clearing, looking out across the water. The last of the sunset had
vanished, and the river and its banks looked like a picture in delicate
grey tints. A light suddenly twinkled on the opposite shore, where one
could just discern the outlines of a farm-house, fading fast into the
mist of twilight.

"Can we not make a signal?" Elsi