She herself seemed to be imbued with an unnatural strength. Her long, athletic limbs smote the water with unflagging vigour ... more than that, with an exhilaration. Just what might have been the reaction from this physical exertion had she swum the whole course, one cannot say, for the last third was destined to be uncompleted. Applebo's trained ear, buried in the brine, caught the rattle of boat-falls and the whine of sheaves, and he raised his dripping head to stare toward the _Shark_. "Rest..." said he to Hermione. "Here comes your gig. They have sighted us. It's just as well; you might have got overtired." "Bother!" said Hermione. "Now you will see me catch it from Uncle Chris." She looked in Applebo's face, which was close to hers, and laughed. Then her blue eyes opened very wide. "What's the matter?" she cried. "You look frightened to death!" "Do I? Put your hand on my shoulder and rest..." Hermione thought that his voice had an odd, strained note. She took his shoulder, then looked at him curiously. The poet's face, naturally a little pallid already from the immersion, had suddenly become of a sickly, bleached-out pallor, which suggested the belly of a dead fish. Hermione was seized by a sudden alarm. "Are you tired...?" she asked, and loosed her hold of his shoulder. Applebo gave a rather forced laugh. The colour began to return again. Then, just as Hermione expected, he assumed his sleepy, blinking expression. "What _was_ it?" Hermione demanded. "A little cramp in the sole of the foot. It's gone now. Did you never have one?" He reached for her hand, and placed it on his shoulder again. "They are very painful ... but not dangerous," said he. Their faces were very close, each to the other. Hermione looked at him questioningly. The poet smiled, and something in the flash of the strong, even teeth set Hermione's heart to thumping in the same undisciplined manner that she had previously experienced on the shore. Applebo pushed the wet hair back from his forehead. As Hermione looked at him, his amber eyes seemed to darken. "This is 'good-bye'..." he said. "It is your own fault." "No ... my misfortune. There are reasons ... besides the silly ones I have given you. This is good-bye." Hermione was conscious of a sudden fatigue. It was as though she had been under the effect of a stimulant which was suddenly withdrawn. The chill of the water struck suddenly through her. Applebo saw the light fade from the deep, violet eyes, and the sweet mouth droop a little at the corners. "I'm so tired..." said Hermione, in a plaintive little voice. He took her free hand and placed it on his other shoulder. Both were slowly treading water, though depending more for buoyancy on their splendid young lungs, trained to the exercise. The boat was coming on rapidly, not over three hundred yards away.