The motor-boat was the last of a row of launches moored to the landing, and as they approached they heard a clear, boyish voice, singing:
“On thy fair bosom, silver lake,
The wild swan spreads his snowy sail,
And round his breast the ripples break,
As down he bears before the gale.”
Nancy and Mary, who were already half down the flight of steps leading to the boats, paused to listen. Billie also lingered on the platform, when suddenly Elinor, who had lagged behind, busy with her own thoughts, ran up to her friend and seized her by the shoulders with a little low cry that was half a laugh and half a sob.
“Billie Campbell,” she whispered, “I know the secret. They’ve changed places. But why did they do it?”
“For fun, at first,” replied Billie. “And now I don’t understand. Something has happened because Edward l’Estrange is not coming back.”
The two girls looked at each other a moment in silence.
“You mean he’s left the other Edward to take his place here?” Elinor whispered.
Billie nodded.
“But that isn’t fair.”