The master’s ear was not less keen than the girl’s, and both had the acuteness of an Indian’s, but his judgment was better.
“From the mainland, across the narrows.”
Neither delayed, and a mutual impulse sent them toward the shore, but again Angelique interposed.
“Thoughtless child, have you no sense? With the master just out of a faint that was nigh death itself! With nothin’ in his poor stomach since the mornin’, and your own as empty. Wait; eat; then chase loons, if you will.”
Mr. Dutton laughed, though he also frowned, and cast a swift, anxious glance toward Margot. But she was intent upon nothing save answering that far-off cry.
“Which canoe, uncle?”
“Mine.”
The devoted servant made a last protest, and caught the girl’s arm as it pushed the light craft downward into the water.
“Ma petite, he is not fit. Believe me. Better leave others to their fate than that he should overtax himself again, so soon.”
Margot was astonished. In all her life she had never before associated thought of physical weakness with her stalwart guardian, and a sharp fear of some unknown trouble shot through her heart.