“Sure. Anything you say, Brains.”
“Thank you,” said Betty stiffly, “but there will be no need for you to come back here for me. Mr. Pitt, just as surely as you go away without me I’ll leave this cave and go to the yacht alone. I mean it. I will not be left here. You can take me in the canoe, too. I will be as safe as Mr. Pierce.”
“You will stay right here,” said I.
“Will I!” she slipped past me, bounded through the brush, and stood outside the cave, ready to run. “I can find the yacht. You can’t catch me. Now, Mr. Pitt, what shall it be?”
Pierce promptly relieved the situation.
“We can land her at some point up there. That’ll be all right, won’t it?”
“Ask her,” I said.
“Yes; that will be all right,” she replied promptly.
With this understanding we carried the canoe down to the water, and with Betty in the middle, started up the fiord. As Pierce said, my prayers for a dark night seemed to have been answered.
So complete was the darkness that twice we grounded, having run into land which we were not able to see. The sound of the river current warned us when we had reached the head of the bay, and carefully following the shore we glided through the opening where I had seen Brack’s boat disappear.