He hid his canoe in the bushes and
strode rapidly across the islet, pushing with impatience through the
twigs of heavy undergrowth intercrossed over his path. From motives of
prudence he would not take his canoe to the meeting-place, as Nina had
done. He had left it in the main stream till his return from the other
side of the island. The heavy warm fog was closing rapidly round him,
but he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a light away to the left,
proceeding from Bulangi's house. Then he could see nothing in the
thickening vapour, and kept to the path only by a sort of instinct, which
also led him to the very point on the opposite shore he wished to reach.
A great log had stranded there, at right angles to the bank, forming a
kind of jetty against which the swiftly flowing stream broke with a loud
ripple. He stepped on it with a quick but steady motion, and in two
strides found himself at the outer end, with the rush and swirl of the
foaming water at his feet.
Standing there alone, as if separated from the world; the heavens, earth;
the very water roaring under him swallowed up in the thick veil of the
morning fog, he breathed out the name of Nina before him into the
apparently limitless space, sure of being heard, instinctively sure of
the nearness of the delightful creature; certain of her being aware of
his near presence as he was aware of hers.
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