By and by there was a rattle of shingle, and presently the black shape of a canoe slid down into the moonlight.

It rose and dipped with the languid ripple, and the two figures in it were silhouetted against the silvery gleam.

One was a man in a wide hat who knelt and dipped the flashing paddle astern, and the other a girl.

The craft crossed the strip of radiance and vanished round the point, after which Mrs.Kinnaird flashed a keen glance at her companion.

He sat still, and his face, on which the moonlight fell, was almost expressionless, but Mrs.Kinnaird fancied he had noticed as much as she had, and that he had possibly grasped its significance.