“It is best for you to go ashore and wait until to-morrow, Josephine.  Look at that stretch of water ahead—­a mass of whitecaps.”

“Please, please take me home,” she pleaded, and now she spoke to Philip alone.  “I’m not afraid.  And I cannot live through another night like last night.  Why, if anything should happen to us”—­she flung back her head and smiled bravely at him through the mist of her wet hair and the drenching spray—­“if anything should happen I know you’d meet it gloriously.  So I’m not afraid.  And I want to go home.”

Philip turned to the half-breed, who had drifted a canoe length away.

“We’ll go on, Jean,” he called.  “We can make it by keeping close inshore.  Can you swim?”

“Oui, M’sieur; but Josephine—­”

“I can swim with her,” replied Philip, and Josephine saw the old life and strength in his face again as she turned to the white-capped seas ahead of them.

Hour after hour they fought their way on after that, the wind rising stronger in their faces, the seas burying them deeper; and each time that Josephine looked back she marvelled at the man behind her, bare-headed, his hair drenched, his arms naked to the elbows, and his clear gray eyes always smiling confidence at her through the gloom of mist.  Not until darkness was falling about them did Jean drop near enough to speak again.  Then he shouted: 

“Another hour and we reach Snowbird River, M’sieur.  That is four miles from Adare House.  But ahead of us the wind rushes across a wide sweep of the lake.  Shall we hazard it?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the girl, answering for Philip.  “We must go on!”

Without another word Croisset led the way.  The wind grew stronger with each minute’s progress.  Shouting for Jean to hold his canoe for a space, Philip steadied his own canoe while he spoke to the girl.

“Come back to me as quietly as you can, Josephine,” he said.  “Pass the dunnage ahead of you to take the place of your weight.  If anything happens, I want you near me.”

Cautiously Josephine did as he bade her, and as she added slowly to the ballast in the bow she drew little by little nearer to Philip, Her hand touched an object in the bottom of the canoe as she came close to him.  It was one of his moccasins.  She saw now his naked throat and chest.  He had stripped off his heavy woollen shirt as well as his footwear.  He reached out, and his hand touched her lightly as she huddled down in front of him.

“Splendid!” he laughed.  “You’re a little brick, Josephine, and the best comrade in a canoe that I ever saw.  Now if we go over all I’ve got to do is to swim ashore with you.  Is it good walking to Adare House?”