"Let us meet at the boat-house in a quarter of an hour. Shall you be ready by then?"
"Yes," I answered. "I will be there."
CHAPTER XXIX
THERE IS DEATH BEFORE US
I did not give myself time to think. I had made up my mind with a sort of desperate determination that this day should be my very own, my own to spend in paradise, without scruples or after thought. In a few minutes my black dress was changed for a navy blue one and a straw hat, and I was hurrying down to the beach. Our boat, a dainty little skiff, only large enough for two, was ready when I got there, and Lord Lumley was standing up unfurling the sail.
I settled myself down comfortably in the cushioned seat, and we were off almost at once, gliding over the smooth surface of the water with a scarcely perceptible motion. We were about a quarter of a mile from the shore when we met Lord Lumley's yacht, rounding the point on her way back from Yarmouth. Lord Lumley stood up in the bows and hailed her.
"All well, Dyson?" he cried, as she swept past.
"All well, my Lord!" was the prompt reply.
"Is the breeze stiffening, do you think? It's calm enough here, but I see the white horses are showing their heads outside the bay."