For a brief space after the breaking of the scow-sweep Kent did not move.

He felt Marette's arms closing tighter and tighter around his neck.

He caught a flash of her upturned face, the flush of a few moments before replaced by a deathly pallor, and he knew that without explanation on his part she understood the almost hopeless situation they were in.

He was glad of that.

It gave him a sense of relief to know that she would not go into a panic, no matter what happened.