She sat and watched the shadowy outline of the Indian boy's figure in the boat, and lectured herself a little on the folly and even wickedness of her sensations.
They had to pass round the lower end of the island, where the village lay, in order to reach Mr.Strafford's house; but the lights were all extinguished, and the inhabitants already asleep.

They coasted along, passing a little wooden pier, and some fishing-boats and canoes lying moored beside the beach, and at last came to a boarded landing-place with a small boat-house at one end.

Here they stopped, and Mr.Strafford bidding his boy run up to the door and knock, assisted the strangers to land.

They were scarcely out of the boat when a bright gleam of lamplight flashing from the open door showed them a sloping path, up which they went, and found themselves in a bright warm room, all glowing with lamplight and firelight.

A very neat little old woman in a Quaker-like cap and dress was ready to welcome them, and in front of the great blazing fire a table stood ready for supper.