She had talked to him of a score of things since they had embarked, passing rapidly from one to another in order to keep him away from the one subject he seemed attracted to from any point of the conversational compass. At the moment she had been so clearly impressed with his almost feminine gracefulness the conversation was taking a dangerous swerve, she thought; and for a minute she was at a loss how to divert the course of language from the matter nearest his heart. In a blind effort to do so she unthinkingly challenged him to prove his sterner strength which she had never seen put to the test. "It’s easy going here, isn’t it?" she said. "What a pity we couldn’t have one visit to the island before we go away." "Do you wish to go there?" asked Rutledge. "I would like to," she replied, "but of course we cannot attempt it without an experienced canoe-man. It is about time for us to return; don’t you think so?" "That depends on whether you really want to go to the island," returned Rutledge, who was quick to see and resent the intimation that he was not equal to the business of putting her across the racing water between them and the small cluster of trees and shrubs growing among a misshapen pile of rocks nearly across the river. "I am told no one but these half-breed guides have ever tried the passage," he continued. "Not because it is so very dangerous, I suppose, but because it is too small to attract visitors to try the rough water." "They can get to it easily from the other side, can’t they? It seems so near to that," said Elise. "No. Jacques tells me that the narrow water on the other side runs like a race-horse, and has many rocks to smash the canoe. Even going from this side I would prefer to leave you here, Miss Phillips, and of course that would make the visit without inducement to me." "You allow your carefulness of me and your politeness to me to reason you out of the danger," said Elise, without any sinister purpose; but Rutledge recalled Helen Phillips’ words about Elise and heroes, and became uncomfortable. "I used them to reason you out of the danger," he replied. "If the argument does not appeal to you I am ready for your orders." "Then let’s go over," said Elise, prompted half by the challenge in his eyes and half by her subconscious desire to see him vindicate his feminine grace. "I admit I am a coward," Rutledge remarked as he turned the canoe toward the island. "Oh, if you confess to being afraid!" said Elise in mingled surprise and pity. "I certainly cannot insist. Let’s return to the hotel." "You mistake me," Rutledge replied as he sent the light craft on toward the rapids. "My cowardice is in permitting you to bully me into carrying you into some danger. I should have the courage to refuse." "You would have me believe in your courage, then, whether you choose danger or avoid it. That is artful," Elise rejoined.