The boat paddled by the Indians carried Cicely, Porley and Jack, and the judge; the second held only three persons--Eve, Hollis, and Paul Tennant. Paul was propelling it alone, his paddle touching the water now on one side, now on the other, lifted across as occasion required as lightly as though it had been a feather. Cicely was listless, Paul good-natured, but indifferent also--so it seemed to Eve; and Eve herself, though she remained quiet (as the judge had described her), Eve was at heart excited. These thick dark woods without a path, without a sound, the wild river, the high Northern air which was like an intoxicant--all these seemed to her wonderful. She breathed rapidly; she glanced at the others in astonishment. "Why don't they admire it? Why doesn't he admire it?" she thought, looking at Paul. Once the idea came suddenly that Paul was laughing at her, and the blood sprang to her face; she kept her gaze down until the stuff of her dress expanded into two large circles in which everything swam, so that she was obliged to close her eyes dizzily. And then, when at last she did look up, her anger and her dizziness had alike been unnecessary, for Paul was gazing at the wooded shore behind her; it was evident that he had not thought of her, and was not thinking of her now. This was late in the day, on their way back. A few minutes afterwards, as they entered the lake, she saw a distant flash, and asked what it was. "Jupiter Light," said Paul. "It's a flash-light, and a good one." "There's a Jupiter Light on Abercrombie Island, too," Eve remarked. "It's a common enough name," Paul answered; "the best-known one is off the coast of Florida." The Indians passed them, paddling with rushing, rapid strokes. "They're right; we shall be late for the steamer if we don't look out," said Paul. "You can help now if you like, Kit." He and Hollis took off their coats, and the canoe flew down the lake under their feathery paddles; the water was as calm as a floor. Eve was sitting at the bow, facing Paul. No one spoke, though Hollis now and then crooned, or rather chewed, a fragment of his favorite song: _"'At the battle of the Nile I was there all the while--'"_ The little voyage lasted half an hour. They reached the village in time for the steamer, and soon afterwards not only Jack and Porley, but Cicely, the judge, and Hollis, tired after their long day afloat, had gone to bed. When Cicely sought her berth Eve also sought hers, the tiny cells being side by side. Since their arrival at Port aux Pins, Cicely had become more lenient to Eve; she was not so cold, sometimes she even spoke affectionately. But she was very changeable. To-night, after a while, Eve tapped at Cicely's door. "Are you really going to bed so early?" "I am in bed already." "Do you want anything? Isn't there something I can bring you?" "No."