Geoffrey was perfectly prepared to risk a swim to the shore on his own account, but he did not at all like the idea of leaving this young lady to find her own way back to Bryngelly through the mist and gathering darkness, and in that frail canoe.

He would not have liked it if she had been a man, for he knew that there was great risk in such a voyage.

So after making one more fruitless suggestion that they should try and reach the shore, taking the chance of rocks, sunken or otherwise, and then walk home, to which Beatrice would not consent, he accepted her offer.
"At the least you will allow me to paddle," he said, as she skilfully brought the canoe right under his rock, which the tide was now high enough to allow her to do.
"If you like," she answered doubtfully.

"My hands are a little sore, and, of course," with a glance at his broad shoulders, "you are much stronger.

But if you are not used to it I dare say that I should get on as well as you." "Nonsense," he said sharply.