It was a calm night; the smoke of distant burning was still in the air.
He dropped down the river in the dark hours before the moonrise, and began to row with strength, as Ann had done, when he reached the placid water.

His boat was light and well built.

He could see few yards of dark water in advance; he could see the dark outline of the trees.

The water was deep; there were no rocks, no hidden banks; he did not make all the haste he could, but rowed on meditatively--he was always more or less attracted by solitude.

To-night the mechanical exercise, the darkness, the absolute loneliness, were greater rest to him than sleep would have been.