Prisoners of Chance - Page 90/233

Her clear, questioning eyes gazed so directly into my own, and were so honestly courageous, I up and told her what I had observed, and where I was then bound.

"It is better to trust me," she commented simply, as I ended my recital. "My eyes have not been altogether idle, although I am no borderer to observe such faint signs. There were several reeds bent low in the water a hundred yards back; their sides scraped as if a large boat had been dragged through them. I thought nothing of it, until I observed how intently you were studying each mark left by man. While you are gone yonder, what would you wish me to do?"

I looked at her attentively, noting how heavy her eyes were from weariness.

"You are too tired to remain on guard, Eloise," I said, forgetting I should not use that name, "or I might bid you watch here, and, if any misfortune befall me, call the others. Besides, if there are enemies at hand there is no knowing from what direction they may chance upon us. However, all we have observed were probably old marks, or made by roving beasts, and I shall soon return to fling myself on the ground, seeking sleep also. So go and rest those weary eyes, while I scout to satisfy myself. It is only the doubt of a suspicious man."

"I shall not sleep until your safe return," she replied firmly. "You shall not go forth thus without one to pray for your safe return. I beg you, exercise care."

"Have no fear, Madame, I am no reckless hot-head at such work, and shall continue to guard my life while it remains of value to you and yours. Try to rest at ease, for I will soon return, with a laugh at my foolish suspicions."

I forced the boat into the swollen stream, and, using one oar as a paddle, silently and swiftly propelled it directly across. Discovering a spot seemingly fit for travel, I pushed the prow through the long marsh grass, and stepped ashore. She still stood in the tree shadow of the opposite bank, and waving a hand in reassurance, I drew forth my long rifle from beneath the seat. Advancing silently, I pressed forward into the thick bed of cane, thinking more of Eloise de Noyan than of the task before me. It proved a hard passage, so extremely difficult as to call back my mind from foolish day-dreams to save myself an ugly fall, for the grass under-foot was matted and tangled, interspersed with marshy pools of brackish water, amid which innumerable projecting roots spread snares for the feet. The sun, now well advanced, gave me the points of the compass, and, holding the rifle-stock before my face, I cleared a path through the dense growth, and emerged from the low marsh land upon smooth turf, where some brush found foothold, yet not so thickly as to impede the walking.