to the bitterness of despair
that had come upon her.

She sat in a corner of the desolate place with Dinah pressed close to
her, while the snow drifted in through the door-less entrance and
sprinkled them both. But it was the darkness rather than the cold or the
snow that affected the girl as she crouched there with her arms about her
companion, striving to warm and shelter her while she herself felt frozen
to the very heart. It was so terrible, so monstrous, so nerve-shattering.
And the silence that went with it was like a nightmare horror to her
shrinking soul. For all Dinah's sensibilities were painfully on the
alert. No merciful dulness of perception came to her. Responsibility had
awakened in her a nervous energy that made her realize the awfulness of
their position with appalling vividness. That they could possibly survive
the night she did not believe. And Death--Death in that fearful
darkness--was a terror from which she shrank almost in panic.

That she retained command of her quivering nerves was due solely to the
fact of Isabel's helplessness--Isabel's dependence upon her. She knew
that while she had any strength left, she must not give way. She must be
brave. Their sole chance of rescue hung upon that.

Like Scott, she thought of the guide, though the hope was a forlorn one.
He might know of this shelter; but whether in the awful darkness he would
ever be able to find it she strongly doubted. Their absence must have
been discovered long since, she was sure; and Scott--Scott would be
certain to think of the mountain path. He would remember his sister's
wild words of the day before, and he would know that she, Dinah, had had
no choice but to accompany her upon the mad quest. It comforted her to
think that Scott would understand, and was already at work to help them.
If by any means deliverance could be brought to them she knew that Scott
would compass it. His quiet and capable spirit was accustomed to grapple
with difficulties, and the enormity of a task would never dismay him. He
had probably organized a search-party long ere this. He would not rest
until he had done his very utmost. She wondered if he would come himself
to look for them; but discarded the idea as unlikely. His infirmity made
progress on the mountains a difficult matter at all times, and he would
not wish to hamper the movements of the others. That was like Scott, she
reflected. He would always keep his own desires in the background,
subse