Yet something struck her oddly as the Englishman turned and walked away. She was quite sure that she heard him chuckle. The boatman must have heard the same thing, for he stared after Morton curiously.
"A bad check, I'll wager," whispered Rosalind to herself. "But where was the sense in the whole affair, anyhow? Never mind; it's not my business. But I want my bracelet."
She stepped from her concealment, and an instant later the boatman turned at the sound of her footsteps.
"Hello!" he said cordially. "You just missed the performance."
"My bracelet, please," was Rosalind's only remark.
"Why, I'd clean forgotten it, ma'am."
"You haven't—lost it?"
"No fear; it's safe."
He turned and entered the cabin, appearing a moment later with the golden circlet lying in his palm. Rosalind seized it with more joy than dignity. The touch of it, as she snapped it about her arm, was exhilarating. Her eyes shone with the light of triumph.
The boatman watched the expressive pantomime with evident approval.