"Hush! The dog must have heard something. Let's listen!"
In the silence they listened intently. Certainly there was something, a faint indeterminate sound, a sound not in the bush but in the lake, a sound of disturbed water.
"The dip of a paddle," whispered Callandar. "Some one is coming in a canoe. The dog heard it before we did—recognised it, too, probably. It must be the witch!"
The dipping sound came nearer and presently there slipped from the shadow of the trees a darker shadow, moving. A canoe with one paddle was coming toward them.
Esther with undignified haste scrambled up from the float, abandoning her position in the line of battle in favour of the doctor. The dog broke into a chorus of ear-splitting yelps of warning and welcome. The moving shadow loomed larger and a calm though harsh voice demanded, "Be quiet, General! Who is there?"
"We are!" answered Callandar, stepping as far from the tree shadow as possible. "Picnickers from Coombe, in an unfortunate predicament. Our motor has broken down, and we want the loan of a boat to get over to Pine Lake station."
As he spoke he was vividly conscious of Esther close behind. So near was she that he felt her warm breath on his neck. She was breathing quickly. Was the child really frightened? Instinctively he put out his hand, backward, and thrilled through every nerve when something cool and small and tremulous slipped into it.
The canoe shot up to the float.
"You can't get any boat here."
There was no surprise or resentment in the harsh level voice. Only determination, final and unshakable.