"Then you intend to sail off again to--to do what you like?" "Humanly speaking, yes." In spite of the heeling deck she rose abruptly, her eyes wide and resolute. "Mr. Fessenden, I'm going with you this afternoon, wherever you go. If you take me back to the landing, I won't go on shore. You'll have to use force, and I warn you I'll resist, and I'm strong for a woman. I solemnly vow I'll make a dreadful scene. And I'll scream, and I can scream _hideously_!" Her words were utterly convincing. He let go the sheet and stared. "By Jove! you _are_ a terror. What in the world is all this about?" "Never mind." "But you make me mind. Surely all this can't be a mere freak on your part. Or is it a joke?" "No. I've a reason for my--my very unlady-like conduct." "Strike out the adjective. But what's the reason?" "I'd rather not tell." She resumed her seat, as if she thought the victory won. Her eyes dwelt on the lines of his powerful figure, well set off by his gray flannels. "You are a distinctly good-looking man, but obstinate." "And you're a remarkably lovely girl, but eccentric; very--eccentric." "You don't know my reasons." "I've asked for them." She laughed evasively. "Isn't it about time to come about?" she said. "It is. But how do you know that? Are you a witch?" "In with the weather braces," she commanded. "Stand by to tack ship! Ready about! Helm's a-lee! Round we go, now. Make fast! All snug, sir." Accompanying her rather uncertain display of nautical language with a pull at the sheets that proved her strength, she gave Fessenden her assistance in bringing the _Wisp_ before the wind. Afterward there was silence between them for a long time. The knots slipped away under the keel of the little yacht, and she drew rapidly in toward land. Fessenden consulted his watch. It was half past five. He decided that it was time to land--time to send his unwelcome visitor away, and to keep his appointment with Betty for supper at White Cottage. Miss Yarnell examined the little binnacle beside the wheel. "Due east," she said sombrely, "almost. If you go back to Sandywood, Mr. Fessenden, remember, I've given you fair warning." "Fear not, mademoiselle. Far be it from me to force you to try your screaming powers on me! I shudder at the thought. No, no. Do you see that cape two or three points south of east? Piney Point, it's called. That's the place I'm aiming for. Are you content?" "Perfectly content." She met his puzzled frown with a faint smile. "You beat the Dutch," he declared in an injured tone. It was just six o'clock when the _Wisp_ grounded gently on the sandy beach of Piney Cove. The westering sun flung red bands across the pine woods, here growing almost to the water's edge.