We climbed the steps to the cool shadows of the terrace. As we stood a moment looking out on the lake we saw, far away toward the northern shore, the _Stiletto_, that seemed just to have slipped out from the lower lake. The humor of the situation pleased me; Helen was off there in the sloop playing at being kidnapped to harass her aunt into coming to terms with Henry Holbrook, and she was doubtless rejoicing in the fact that she had effected a combination of events that would make her father's case irresistible. But there was no time to lose. I made Gillespie comfortable indoors and sent Ijima to get the bag I had asked for; and a few minutes later the launch was skimming over the water toward the canoe-maker's house at Red Gate. CHAPTER XXIII THE ROCKET SIGNAL Blow up the trumpet in the new moon. --_The Psalter_. Rosalind was cutting sweet peas in the garden where they climbed high upon a filmy net, humming softly to herself. She was culling out white ones, which somehow suggested her own white butterflies--a proper business for any girl on a sunny morning, with the dew still bright where the shadows lay, with bird-wings flashing about her, and the kindliest of airs blowing her hair. "A penny for your thoughts!" I challenged. She snipped an imaginary flower from the air in my direction. "Keep your money! I was not thinking of you! You wear, sir, an intent commercial air; have you thread and needles in your pack?" "It is ordained that we continue the game of last night. To-day you are to invade the very citadel and deceive your aunt. Your cousin has left without notice and the situation demands prompt action." I was already carrying the suit-case toward the house, explaining as we walked along together. "But was I so successful last night? Was he really deceived, or did he just play that he was?" "He's madly in love with you. You stole away all his senses. But he thought you changed toward him unaccountably on the way home." "But why didn't she tell him?--she must have told him." "Oh, I took care of that! I rather warned her against betraying us. And now she's trying to punish me by being kidnapped!" Rosalind paused at the threshold, gathering the stems of the sweet peas in her hands. "Do you think," she began, "do you think he really liked me--I mean the real me?" "Like you! That is not the right word for it. He's gloomily dreaming of you--the real you--at this very moment over at Glenarm. But do hasten into these things that Sister Margaret picked out for you. I must see your father before I carry you off. We've no time to waste, I can tell you!" The canoe-maker heard my story in silence and shook his head. "It is impossible; we should only get into deeper trouble. I have no great faith in this resemblance. It may have worked once on young Gillespie, but women have sharper eyes."