"I'll row myself ashore," I said, "and leave the dinghy on the beach. I shall be back about four o'clock, if that's not too early for you. We ought to get our explosion over before there's any one about." Joyce nodded. "I don't mind how early you come. The sooner the better." "Try and get some sleep," I added; "you'll be tired out tomorrow if you don't." "I'll try," said Joyce simply; "but I don't think I shall. I'm not even sure I want to." I kissed her once more, and slipping down into the dinghy, pulled off for the shore. Everything around was dark and silent--the faint splash of my oars alone breaking the utter stillness. Landing at my usual spot, more by luck than judgment, I tugged the boat up out of reach of the tide, and then, turning round, waved good-night to the _Betty_. It was too dark to see anything, but I think Joyce sent me back my message. CHAPTER XIX LAUNCHING A NEW INVENTION The eastern sky was just flushing into light when I got back to the creek at four o'clock. It was a beautiful morning--cool and still--with the sweet freshness of early dawn in the air, and the promise of a long unclouded day of spring sunshine. I tugged the dinghy down to the water, and pushed off for the _Betty_, which looked strangely small and unreal lying there in the dim, mysterious twilight. The sound I made as I drew near must have reached Joyce's ears. She was up on deck in a moment, fully dressed, and with her hair twisted into a long bronze plait that hung down some way below her waist. She looked as fresh and fair as the dawn itself. "Beautifully punctual," she called out over the side. "I knew you would be, so I started getting breakfast." I caught hold of the gunwale and scrambled on board. "It's like living at the Savoy," I said. "Breakfast was a luxury that had never entered my head." "Well, it's going to now," she returned, "unless you're in too great a hurry to start. It's all ready in the cabin." "We can spare ten minutes certainly," I said. "Experiments should always be made on a full body." I tied up the dinghy and followed her inside, where the table was decorated with bread and butter and the remnants of the cold pheasant, while a kettle hissed away cheerfully on the Primus. "I don't believe you've been to bed at all, Joyce," I said. "And yet you look as if you'd just slipped out of Paradise by accident." She laughed, and putting her hand in my side-pocket, took out my handkerchief to lift off the kettle with. "I didn't want to sleep," she said. "I was too happy, and too miserable. It's the widest-awake mixture I ever tried." Then, picking up the teapot, she added curiously: "Where's the powder? I expected to see you arrive with a large keg over your shoulder." I sat down at the table and produced a couple of glass flasks, tightly corked. "Here you are," I said. "This is ordinary gunpowder, and this other one's my stuff. It looks harmless enough, doesn't it?"