But she had something else to think about that gave her a sense of loss and a poignant melancholy.  Indeed, she had forced her mind to dwell upon the other matters in order to find relief, and she was glad when Thirlwell broke the silence.

“We ought to make the Shadow by to-morrow noon, and the mine in the evening.”

“I think we go down the Grand Rapid before we reach the mine?”

Thirlwell made a sign of agreement, and after a moment’s hesitation she gave him a quick glance.

“I wonder if you know what day to-morrow is?  I mean the associations it has for me?”

“Yes,” he said in a sympathetic voice.  “I thought you would sooner not talk about it; but I remember.  In a way, it’s curious you should be here now.”

“Ah,” she said, “I wanted to be in the North when the day came round, but I did not imagine I should go down the rapid in the evening.  It was in the evening the canoe capsized!”

“Dusk was falling; the smoke of a bush fire blew across the river, and there was a moon.”

“The moon will be out to-morrow,” Agatha said quietly.  “It is strange; I couldn’t have arranged that things should happen like this!”

She paused for some moments and then resumed:  “Perhaps it is ridiculous, but I imagine now I am going to find the lode.  The doubts I started with have gone; I feel calmly confident.”

Thirlwell noted the emotional tremble in her voice and thought he had better use some tact.

“I must see the load that got wet is properly put up,” he said, and moved back into the shadow; but Agatha sat still, watching the smoke curl among the dark trunks.

She had not exaggerated, for a feeling of quiet confidence had been getting stronger all day.  There was no obvious reason for it and the difficulties she must overcome were greater than she had thought; but she felt that she would succeed.  After all, her father had loved her best, she was making the search for his sake, and when she reached the scene of his efforts she would find some help.  The hope was, of course, illogical and she was a teacher of science; but it was unshakable and comforted her.  Then she mused about her father’s life in the wilds.  Something had happened to him, for she had noted Thirlwell’s reserve.  Perhaps bitter disappointment had broken him down; she did not know and would not ask.  It was enough that he had loved her; she was satisfied with this.

CHAPTER XXIII

STRANGE’S LEGACY

It was afternoon when the canoes slid out from the forest on to the broad expanse of the Shadow River.  The day was calm and hot, although the sky was covered with soft gray clouds, that subdued the light.  The river had shrunk, for the driftwood on the bank stood high above the water level, and Thirlwell had only known it sink so low during the summer when Strange was drowned.  For all that, the current ran fast and the long rows of pines rolled swiftly back to meet the canoes as they floated down.  The trees had lost their rigid outline and melted gently into the blue distance, while the savage landscape was softened by the play of tender light and shadow.