He smiled, and slowly his eyes scanned the lake.

He was already beginning to reason, to guess at the mystery which she had told him he could not unveil if he lived a thousand years.

But he could at least work about the edges of it.
Suddenly he concentrated his gaze at a point on the lake three quarters of a mile away.

It was close to shore, and he was certain that he had seen some movement there--a flash of sunlight on a shifting object.
Probably he had caught a reflection of light from the palmate horn of a moose feeding among the water-lily roots.

He leaned forward, and shaded his eyes.