CHAPTER XV
I
One fine dawn in the beginning of the following January the Diana ran out of the mouth of the Wairoa into the gray flat expanses of the Kaipara Harbour that stretched away in all directions into blurred horizons. Dane sat alone on the stern seat, wearing a light tweed coat over his old navy suit, for though there were already indications that the day would be hot, the night damp still lingered on the river and a chill came off the sea. He was hatless, and the little breeze made by the launch stirred his hair. He looked weary, for he had been up all night, but his skin had a healthy tan upon it, and his eyes had the light of a man bent upon a promising pilgrimage.
He looked away towards the heads where three timber vessels lay, black shapes against the tan cliffs, waiting for the tugs that would take them out over the dangerous bar. In the world of low shores and fleeting fog there was not a sign of another moving thing. As he turned the Diana round a sand-bank towards land again, heading for the rather uninteresting shore that lay between the mouths of two rivers, the gorgeous fan of crimson that had formed in the east burst through a bank of low-lying leaden clouds, stretched itself out into boundless space, and lost itself in a diffused glow in the pale luminousness of the clear ether above. Dane looked up at it, enjoying the idea that he had the picture to himself.
He peered ahead into the little cabin where Valerie lay
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