They were soon floating out upon the water and down with the tide past the dingy colliers and the small trading vessels that were anchored there, and out among the coming and going sloops and schooners.
"Let me row toward that beautiful wooded shore. It is so lovely over there!" said Mary Grey, coaxingly.
"'Distance lends,' and so forth," smiled Craven Kyte, as he at once headed for the shore.
But the outgoing tide had left a muddy beach there, and so they had to keep at a respectful distance from it.
They rowed again to the middle of the river.
The afterglow had faded away, but the blue-black starlit sky was brilliantly reflected in the dark water.
When they had rowed an hour longer, back and forth from shore to shore, Craven Kyte drew in his oar and said:
"It is growing late and very dark, love. Had we not better go in?"
"No, no, no!" answered the bride, with prettily assumed authority.
"The night is beautiful! I could stay out here until morning!"
"But chills and fevers, these September nights, darling!"
"I never had a chill in my life! I am acclimated to these water-side places. If you are tired of rowing give me the oars."
"Not for the world! What, fatigue your dear arms? I would sooner mine dropped from my shoulders with weariness!"
And he took up both oars again and plied them actively, although his unaccustomed muscles were aching from the long-continued exercise.
"Turn down the stream then and row with the tide. It will be so much lighter work than rowing back and forth across the river."
"But it will take us so far from the town."
"And it will make it very difficult, when we turn back, to row against wind and tide."
"Bah, we will not stay out long! We will only go around that point that I see before us. What a fascination there is in a turning point! We always want to see what is on the other side," said Mary Grey, lightly.
Meantime, Craven Kyte had turned the boat and they were floating down stream very fast.
They soon passed the point, and saw on the other side a flat, sandy shore, with the woods at a little distance.
They were still off the point, when Mary Grey suddenly uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"What is the matter?" hastily inquired Craven Kyte.
"Oh, my hat! My hat has fallen off my head and is in the water! If you stoop over quick you can reach it before it floats quite away!" she said, eagerly.