ers on the powdery snow, the creak of the warming leather
on the horses, the regular breathing of the team, broke the stillness of
the forest. Paul hoped against hope that Catrina was asleep. She sat by
his side, her arm touching his sleeve, her weight thrown against him at
such times as the sleigh bumped over a fallen tree or some inequality of
the ground.

He could not help wondering what thoughts there were behind her silence.
Steinmetz's good-natured banter had come back to his memory, during the
last few days, in a new light.

"Paul," said the woman at his side quite suddenly, breaking the silence
of the great forest where they had grown to life and sorrow almost side
by side.

"Yes."

"I want to know how this all came about. It is not my father's doing.
There is something quick, and practical, and wise which suggests you and
Herr Steinmetz. I suspect that you have done this--you and he--for our
happiness."

"No," answered Paul; "it was mere accident. Your father heard of our
trouble in Kiew. You know him--always impulsive and reckless. He never
thinks of the danger. He came to help us."

Catrina smiled wanly.

"But it _is_ for our happiness, is it not, Paul? You know that it
is--that is why you have done it. I have not had time yet to realize
what I am doing, all that is going to happen. But if it is your doing, I
think I shall be content to abide by the result."

"It is not my doing," replied Paul, who did not like her wistful tone.
"It is the outcome of circumstances. Circumstances have been ruling us
all lately. We seem to have no time to consider, but only to do that
which seems best for the moment."

"And it is best that I should go to America with my father?" Her voice
was composed and quiet. In the dim light he could not see her white
lips; indeed, he never looked.

"It seems so to me, undoubtedly," he said. "In doing this, so far as we
can see at present, it seems certain that you are saving your father
from Siberia. You know what he is; he never thinks of his own safety. He
ought never to have come here to-night. If he remains in Russia, it is
an absolute certainty that he will sooner or later be rearrested. He is
one of those good people who require saving from themselves."

Catrina nodded. At times duty is the kedge-anchor of happiness. The girl
was dimly aware that she was holding to this. She was simple and
unsophisticated enough to consider Paul's opinion infallible. At the
great cross