This was a real adventure–out in her canoe alone in the dark. And how fast she made the light craft travel through the still water!
She reached the landing in a very short time. Hopping out, she hauled up the canoe. Was that the water splashing–or was there a sound behind her on the float? Was it a footstep–somebody hastening away?
Now, for the first time, Wyn felt a little tremor. But she was naturally too brave to be particularly disturbed by such a fancy. Who would be lurking about the Jarleys’ place at this hour?
So, after a moment, she shook off her doubt, and ran lightly up the float and along the path to the little cottage. She knew Polly’s window well enough, and dark as it was, she soon found the spot.
It was shuttered, and the shutter was bolted on the inside; but Wyn scratched upon the blind and after doing so a second time she heard a movement within.
“Polly!” she breathed.
She did not want to awaken Mr. Jarley. She just felt that she could not explain to him. Of course, what she had hit under the water might have nothing to do with the sunken boat, and Wyn shrank from disturbing the boatman himself about it.
“Polly!” she exclaimed, again in a whisper, “it’s I–Wyn–Wyn Mallory.”
At once she heard her friend’s voice in return. The shutter opened. Polly blinked at Wyn through the darkness.
“My dear! What do you want? What has happened?” asked the girl of the woods.