〃Oh；　Kalman；　you　have　hurt　yourself！〃
  〃It　is　this　cursed　foot　of　mine；〃　he　groaned。　　〃I　twisted　it　and　something's　broken；　I　am　afraid；　and　it　IS　rather　sore。〃
  〃Hello　there！　what's　up？〃　cried　Mr。　Penny　from　his　saddle。　　〃I'm　getting　beastly　cold　up　here。〃
  Marjorie　turned　wrathfully　upon　him。
  〃Here；　you　great　lazy　thing；　come　down！〃　she　cried。　　〃Kalman；　you　must　ride。〃
  But　Kalman　was　up　and　once　more　leading　the　way。
  〃We're　almost　there；〃　he　cried。　　〃Come　along；　he　couldn't　find　the　path。〃
  〃It's　just　a　great　shame！〃　cried　Marjorie；　half　sobbing；　keeping　by　his　side。　　〃Can't　I　help　you？　　Let　me　try。〃
  Her　arm　around　him　put　new　life　into　him。
  〃By　Jove！　I　see　a　fire；〃　shouted　Mr。　Penny。
  〃That's　camp；〃　said　Kalman；　pausing　for　breath　while　Marjorie　held　him　up。　　〃We're　just　there。〃
  And　so；　staggering　and　stumbling；　they　reached　the　foot　of　the　landslip。　　Here　Kalman　took　the　saddle　off　Jacob；　turned　him　loose；　and　clambered　up　to　the　cave；　followed　by　the　others。　　Mr。　Penny　sank　to　the　ground　and　lay　upon　the　cave　floor　like　one　dead。
  〃Well；　here　we　are　at　last；〃　said　Kalman；　〃thank　God！〃
  〃Yes；　thank　God！〃　said　Marjorie　softly；　〃andyou；　Kalman。〃
  She　sank　to　her　knees　on　the　ground；　and　putting　her　face　in　her　hands；　burst　into　tears。
  〃What　is　it；　Marjorie？〃　said　Kalman；　taking　her　hands　down　from　her　face。　　〃Are　you　hurt？　　What　is　it？　　I　can't　bear　to　see　you　cry　like　that。〃　　But　he　didn't　kiss　her。　　The　conventionalities　were　seizing　upon　him　again。　　His　old　shyness　was　stealing　over　his　spirit。　　〃Tell　me　what　to　do；〃　he　said。
  〃Do！〃　cried　Marjorie　through　her　sobs。　　〃What　more　can　you　do？　　Oh；　Kalman；　you　have　saved　me　from　an　awful　death！〃
  〃Don't　speak　of　it；〃　said　the　boy　with　a　shudder。　　〃Don't　I　know　it？　　I　can't　bear　to　think　of　it。　　But　are　you　all　right？〃
  〃Right？〃　said　Marjorie　briskly；　wiping　away　her　tears。　　〃Of　course　I'm　all　right；　an'　sair　hungry；　tae。〃
  〃Why；　of　course。　　What　a　fool　I　am！〃　said　Kalman。　　〃I'll　make　you　tea　in　a　minute。〃
  〃No；　let　me；〃　cried　Marjorie。　　〃Your　poor　foot　must　be　awful。　Where's　your　teapot？　　I'm　a　gran'　tea　maker；　ye　ken。〃　　She　was　in　one　of　her　daft　moods；　as　Aunt　Janet　would　say。
  Never　was　such　tea　as　that　which　they　had　from　the　tin　tea　pail　and　from　the　one　tin　cup。　　What　though　the　blizzard　howled　its　loudest　in　front　of　their　cave？　　What　though　the　swirling　snow　threatened　now　and　then　to　douse　their　fire？　　What　though　the　tea　boiled　over　and　the　pork　burned　to　a　crisp？　　What　though　a　single　bannock　stood　alone　between　them　and　starvation？　　What　cared　they？　　Heaven　was　about　them；　and　its　music　was　ringing　in　their　hearts。
  Refreshed　by　their　tea；　they　sat　before　the　blazing　fire；　all　three；　drying　their　soaked　garments；　while　Mr。　Penny　and　Marjorie　recounted　their　experiences。　　They　had　intended　to　make　Wakota；　but　missed　the　trail。　　The　day　was　fine；　however；　and　that　gave　them　no　concern　till　the　storm　came　up；　when　suddenly　they　had　lost　all　sense　of　direction　and　allowed　their　ponies　to　take　them　where　they　would。　　With　the　instinct　bred　on　the　plains；　the　ponies　had　made　for　the　shelter　of　the　Night　Hawk　ravine。　　Up　the　ravine　they　had　struggled　till　the　darkness　and　the　thick　woods　had　forced　them　to　abandon　the　ponies。
  〃I　wonder　what　the　poor　things　will　do？〃　interjected　Marjorie。
  〃They'll　look　after　themselves；　never　fear；〃　said　Kalman。　　〃They　live　out　all　winter　here。〃
  Then　through　the　drifts　they　had　fought　their　way；　till　in　the　moment　of　their　despair　the　dogs　came　upon　them。
  〃We　thought　they　were　wolves；〃　cried　Marjorie；　〃till　one　began　to　bay；　and　I　knew　it　was　the　foxhound。　　And　then　I　was　sure　that　you　would　not　be　far　away。　　We　followed　the　dogs　for　a　while；　and　I　kept　calling　and　calling；poor　Mr。　Penny　had　lost　his　voice　entirely；till　you　came　and　found　us。〃
  A　sweet　confusion　checked　her　speech。　　The　heat　of　the　fire　became　suddenly　insupportable；　and　putting　up　her　hand　to　protect　her　face；　she　drew　back　into　the　shadow。
  Mr。　Penny；　under　the　influence　of　a　strong　cup　of　boiling　tea　and　a　moderate　portion　of　the　bannock　and　pork；for　Kalman　would　not　allow　him　full　rations；became　more　and　more　confident　that　they　〃would　have　made　it。〃
  〃Why；　Mr。　Penny；〃　cried　Marjorie；　〃you　couldn't　move　a　foot　further。　Don't　you　remember　how　often　you　sat　down；　and　I　had　just　to　pull　you　up？〃
  〃Oh；〃　said　Mr。　Penny；　〃it　was　the　beastly　drift　getting　into　my　eyes　and　mouth；　don't　you　know。　　But　I　would　have　pulled　up　again　in　a　minute。　　I　was　just　getting　my　second　wind。　　By　Jove！　I'm　strong　on　my　second　wind；　don't　you　know。〃
  But　Marjorie　was　quite　unconvinced；　while　Kalman　said　nothing。　Over　and　over　again　they　recounted　the　tale　of　their　terrors　and　their　struggle；　each　time　with　some　new　incident；　but　ever　and　anon　there　would　flame　up　in　Marjorie's　cheek　the　flag　of　distress；　as　if　some　memory　smote　her　with　a　sudden　blow；　and　her　hand　would　cover　her　cheek　as　if　to　ward　off　those　other　and　too　ardent　kisses　of　the　dancing　flames。　　But　at　such　times　about　her　lips　a　fitful　smile　proclaimed　her　distress　to　be　not　quite　unendurable。
  At　length　Mr。　Penny　felt　sleepy；　and　stretching　himself　upon　the　dry　earth　before　the　fire；　passed　into　unconsciousness；　leaving　the　others　to　themselves。　　Over　the　bed　of　spruce　boughs　in　the　corner　Kalman　spread　his　blankets；　moving　about　with　painful　difficulty　at　his　task；　his　groans　growing　more　frequent　as　they　called　forth　from　his　companion　exclamations　of　tender　commiseration。
  The　story　of　those　vigil　hours　could　not　be　told。　　How　they　sat　now　in　long　silences；　gazing　into　the　glowing　coals；　and　again　conversing　in　low　voices　lest　Mr。　Penny's　vocal　slumbers　should　be　disturbed；　how　Marjorie　told　the　short　and　simple　story　of　her　life；　to　Kalman　all　wonderful；　how　Kalman　told　the　story　of　his　life；　omitting　parts；　and　how　Marjorie's　tender　eyes　overflowed　and　her　rosy　cheeks　grew　pale　and　her　hand　crept　toward　his　arm　as　he　told　the　tragedy　of　his　mother's　death；　how　she　described　with　suppressed　laughter　the　alarms　of　her　dear　Aunt　Janet　that　morning　was　it　a　month　ago？how　he　told　of　Jack　French；　what　a　man　he　was　and　how　good；　how　she　spoke　of　her　father　and　his　strength　and　his　tenderness；　and　of　how　he　spoiled　her；　against　which　Kalman　vehemently　protested；　how　he　told　of　Brown　and　his　work　for　the　poor　ignorant　Galicians；　and　of　the　songs　they　sang　together；　how　she　made　him　sing；　at　first　in　undertones　soft　and　low；　lest　poor　Mr。　Penny's　sleep　should　be　broken；　and　then　in　tones　clear　and　full；　the　hymns　in　which　Brown　and　French　used　to　join；　and　then；　in　obedience　to　her　peremptory　commands；　his　own　favourite　Hungarian　love…song；　of　which　he　shyly　told　her；　how　her　eyes　shone　like　stars；　her　cheeks　paled；　and　her　hands　held　fast　to　each　other　in　the　ecstasy　of　her　rapture　while　he　told　her　what　it　all　meant；　at　first　with　averted　looks；　and　then　boldly　pouring　the　passion　of　his　soul　into　her　eyes；　till　they　fell　before　the　flame　in　his　as　he　sang　the　refrain；
  〃While　the　flower　blooms　in　the　meadow；　　　　　　　　　And　fishes　swim　the　sea；　　　　　　　Heart　of　my　heart；　soul　of　my　soul；　　　　　　　　　I'll　love　and　live　for　thee〃；
  how　then　shyness　fell　on　her　and　she　moved　ever　so　little　to　her　own　side　of　the　fire；　how　he；　sensitive　to　her　every　emotion；　rose　at　once　to　build　the　fire；　telling　her　for　the　first　time　then　of　his　wonderful　discovery；　which　he　had　clean　forgot；　how　together　on　tiptoe　they　examined；　with　heads　in　close　proximity　and　voices　lowered　to　a　whisper；　the　black　seam　that　ran　down　a　side　of　the　cave；　how　they　discussed　the　possible　value　of　it　and　what　it　might　mean　to　Kalman；　and　then　how　they　fell　silent　again　till　Kalman　commanded　her　to　bed；　to　which　she　agreed　only　upon　condition　that　he　should　rouse　Mr。　Penny　when　his　watch　should　be　over；　how　she　woke　in　broad　daylight　to　find　him　with　breakfast　ready；　the　blizzard　nearly　done；　and　the　sun　breaking　through　upon　a　wonderful　world；　white　and　fairylike；　how　they　vainly　strove　to　simulate　an　ease　of　manner；　to　forget　some　of　the　things　that　happened　the　night　before；　and　that　neither　could　ever　forget　till　the　heart　should　cease　to　beat。
  All　this　might　be　told；　had　one　the　art。　　But　no　art　or　skill　of　man　could　tell　how；　as　they　talked；　there　flew　from　eye　to　eye；　hers　brown　and　his　blue…grey；　those　swift；　fluttering　signals　of　the　heart；　how　he　watched　to　see　on　her　cheek　the　red　flush　glow　and　pale　again；　not　sure　whether　it　was　from　the　fire　upon　the　cave　floor　or　from　the　fire　that　burns　eternal　in　the　heart　of　man　and　maid；　how；　as　he　talked　and　sang；　she　feared　and　loved　to　see　the　bold　leap　of　passion　in　his　eyes；　and　how　she　speedily　learned　what　words　or　looks　of　hers　could　call　up　that　flash；　how；　as　she　slept；　he　piled　high　the　fire；　not　that　she　might　be　warm；　but　that　the　light　might　fall　upon　her　face　and　he　might　drink　and　drink　till　his　heart　could　hold　no　more；　of　her　sweet　loveliness；　how；　when　first　waking；　her　eyes　fell　on　him　moving　softly　about　the　cave；　and　then　closed　again　till　she　could　dream　again　her　dream　and　drink　in　slow　sips　its　rapture；　how　he　feared　to　meet　her　waking　glance；　lest　it　should　rebuke　his　madness　of　the　night；　how；　as　her　eyes　noted　the