man was a beast. On the day preceding the
night of the terrible storm, the woman's husband set out for the
settlement to bring back supplies. Hardly had he gone, when the beast
came to the cabin. He found himself alone with the woman.

"A mile from his cabin, the husband stopped to light his pipe. See,
gentlemen, how the Supreme Arbiter played His hand. The man attempted
to unscrew the stem, and the stem broke. In the wilderness you must
smoke. Smoke is your company. It is voice and companionship to you.
There were other pipes at the settlement, ten miles away; but there was
also another pipe at the cabin, one mile away. So the husband turned
back. He came up quietly to his door, thinking that he would surprise
his wife. He heard voices--a man's voice, a woman's cries. He opened
the door, and in the excitement of what was happening within neither
the man nor the woman saw nor heard him. They were struggling. The
woman was in the man's arms, her hair torn down, her small hands
beating him in the face, her breath coming in low, terrified cries.
Even as the husband stood there for the fraction of a second, taking in
the terrible scene, the other man caught the woman's face to him, and
kissed her. And then--it happened.

"It was a terrible fight; and when it was over the beast lay on the
floor, bleeding and dead. Gentlemen, the Supreme Arbiter BROKE A
PIPE-STEM, and sent the husband back in time!"

No one spoke as Father Charles drew his coat still closer about him.
Above the tumult of the storm another sound came to them--the distant,
piercing shriek of a whistle.

"The husband dug a grave through the snow and in the frozen earth,"
concluded Father Charles; "and late that afternoon they packed up a
bundle and set out together for the settlement. The storm overtook
them. They had dropped for the last time into the snow, about to die in
each other's arms, when I put my light in the window. That is all;
except that I knew them for several years afterward, and that the old
happiness returned to them--and more, for the child was born, a
miniature of its mother. Then they moved to another part of the
wilderness, and I to still another. So you see, gentlemen, what a
snow-bound train may mean, for if an old sea tale, a broken pipe-stem--"

The door at the end of the smoking-room opened suddenly. Through it
there came a cold blast of the storm, a cloud of snow, and a man. He
was bundled in a great bearskin coat, and as he shoo