“Sit tight!” Carefully he leaned over her, steadying the canoe with one hand on the float.  In the other she saw the glint of a knife, felt the confining rope sever, felt the strong push which separated them from the float and then, just as a great dog, fiercely silent now, bounded from the path above, a paddle rose and dipped and they shot out into the lake.

“If he follows and tries to overturn us I’ll have to shoot him,” said the doctor cheerfully.  “But he won’t.  Hark to him!”

The long bay of the baffled dog rose to the stars.

“There was an extra paddle in the boat-house,” he explained.  “I took it out when we first came down—­in case of accident.  Old She-who-must-be-obeyed must have forgotten it.  It is a spliced paddle but we shall manage excellently.  Luckily I know how to use it.  All I need now is direction.  Lady, ’where lies the land to which this ship must go?’”

“‘Far, far away is all the seamen know,’” capped Esther, laughing.  “But if you will keep on around that next point and then straight across I think we ought to get there—­Oh, look! there is the moon!  We had forgotten about the moon!”

They had indeed forgotten the moon.  And the moon had been part of their programme too.  Both remembered at the same moment that, according to schedule, they were now supposed to be almost home, running down Coombe hill by moonlight.

“This is much nicer,” said Esther, comfortably.

“But—­” he did not finish his sentence.  Why disturb her?  Besides it certainly was much nicer!  The forgotten moon bore them no malice.  A soft radiance grew and spread around them, the whole sky and lake were faintly shining though the goddess herself had not yet topped the trees.  The shadows were becoming blacker and more sharply defined.  In front of them the point loomed, inky black.  Like a bird of the night the little canoe shot towards it, skimmed its darkness and then slipped, effortless, into shining silver space.  The smile of the moon!  Pleasing old hypocrite!  Always she smiles the same upon two in a canoe!

They were paddling toward her so that her light fell full on the doctor’s face—­a clean cut, virile face, manly, stern, yet with a whimsical sweetness hidden somewhere.

“How handsome he is!” thought Esther, exactly as the moon intended.

“Strong, too,” her thought added as the light picked out his well-set shoulders and the sweep of the arm which sped the paddle so lightly yet so strongly up and down.  Clear, yet soft, the moon showed no touch of grey in the hair (although the grey was there) nor did she point out the markings which were the legacy of strenuous years.  Seen so, he appeared no older than she who watched shyly from girlish eyes.

With a little shiver of utmost content Esther settled herself against the thwart of the canoe.

Manlike he did not know the meaning of that shiver.

“Fool that I am!” he exclaimed.  “You are cold, and behold we have left behind the shawl of Mrs. Sykes’ grandmother!”