"_Au revoir_, my friends," she cried and gave the word, at which the
men sprang clear, and amid cries of encouragement and congratulation
the machine moved down the lawn, gathering momentum with every second,
rising gracefully with its small burden just before it reached the
water and soaring into the air. The people on the lawn watched for a
moment and then with one accord rushed for the launch.

Olga Tcherny paused a moment, her hand on Markham's arm.

"You will come to 'Wake-Robin'?" she asked.

"I think not," he replied.

"Then I shall come to Thimble Island," she finished.

"I shall be charmed, of course."

She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed. He was watching the
distant spot in the air.

"You're too polite to be quite natural."

"I didn't mean to be."

"Then don't let it happen again."

The voices of her companions were calling to her and she hastened her
footsteps.

"_Ë bient™t_," she cried.