At length they came to a canal gliding towards the sea; they followed it inland, and here the darkness was equal to the silence. Great trees that had been planted when William of Orange was king in England threw their shade over the water, shutting out the stars. They wandered along on the soft earth, they could not hear themselves walk--and they did not speak. They came to a bridge over the canal and stood on it, looking at the water and the trees above them, and the water and the trees below them--and they did not speak. Then out of the darkness came another darkness, and gradually loomed forth the heaviness of a barge. Noiselessly it glided down the stream, very slowly; at the end of it a boy stood at the tiller, steering; and it passed beneath them and beyond, till it lost itself in the night, and again they were alone. They stood side by side, leaning against the parapet, looking down at the water.... And from the water rose up Love, and Love fluttered down from the trees, and Love was borne along upon the night air. Ferdinand did not know what was happening to him; he felt Valentia by his side, and he drew closer to her, till her dress touched his legs and the silk of her sleeve rubbed against his arm. It was so dark that he could not see her face; he wondered of what she was thinking. She made a little movement and to him came a faint wave of the scent she wore. Presently two forms passed by on the bank and they saw a lover with his arm round a girl's waist, and then they too were hidden in the darkness. Ferdinand trembled as he spoke. 'Only Love is waking!' 'And we!' she said. 'And--you!' He wondered why she said nothing. Did she understand? He put his hand on her arm. 'Valentia!' He had never called her by her Christian name before. She turned her face towards him. 'What do you mean?' 'Oh, Valentia, I love you! I can't help it.' A sob burst from her. 'Didn't you understand,' he said, 'all those hours that I sat for you while you painted, and these long nights in which we wandered by the water?' 'I thought you were my friend.' 'I thought so too. When I sat before you and watched you paint, and looked at your beautiful hair and your eyes, I thought I was your friend. And I looked at the lines of your body beneath your dress. And when it pleased me to carry your easel and walk with you, I thought it was friendship. Only to-night I know I am in love. Oh, Valentia, I am so glad!' She could not keep back her tears. Her bosom heaved, and she wept. 'You are a woman,' he said. 'Did you not see?' 'I am so sorry,' she said, her voice all broken. 'I thought we were such good friends. I was so happy. And now you have spoilt it all.' 'Valentia, I love you.' 'I thought our friendship was so good and pure. And I felt so strong in it. It seemed to me so beautiful.' 'Did you think I was less a man than the fisherman you see walking beneath the trees at night?' 'It is all over now,' she sighed. 'What do you mean?'