eeling of loneliness. It was a new sensation to
Steele, and he shivered as he sat up and faced the fire. It was this
same quiet, this same unending mystery of voiceless desolation that had
won him to the North. Until to-night he had loved it. But now there was
something oppressive about it, something that made him strain his eyes
to see beyond the rock and the fire, and set his ears in tense listening
for sounds which did not exist. He knew that in this hour he was longing
for companionship--not that of Breed, nor of men with whom he hunted
men, but of men and women whom he had once known and in whose lives he
had played a part--ages ago, it seemed to him. He knew, as he sat with
clenched hands and staring eyes, that chiefly he was longing for a
woman--a woman whose eyes and lips and sunny hair haunted him after
months of forgetfulness, and whose face smiled at him luringly, now,
from out the leaping flashes of fire--tempting him, calling him over a
thousand miles of space. And if he yielded--

The thought sent his nails biting into the flesh of his palms and he
sank back with a curse that held more of misery than blasphemy. Physical
exhaustion rather than desire for sleep closed his eyes, at last, in
half-slumber, and after that the face seemed nearer and more real to
him, until it was close at his side, and was speaking to him. He heard
again the soft, rippling laugh, girlishly sweet, that had fascinated him
at Hawkins' ball; he heard the distant hum and chatter of other voices,
and then one loud and close--that of Chesbro, who had unwittingly
interrupted them, and saved him, just in the nick of time.

Steele moved restlessly; after a moment wriggled to his elbow and looked
toward the fire. He seemed to hear Chesbro's voice again as he awoke,
and a thrill as keen as an electric shock set his nerves tingling when
he heard once more the laughing voice of his dream, hushed and low. In
amazement he sat bolt upright and stared. Was he still dreaming? The
fire was burning brightly and he was aware that he had scarce fallen
into sleep.

A movement--a sound of feet crunching softly in the snow, and a figure
came between him and the fire.

It was a woman.

He choked back the cry that rose to his lips and sat motionless and
without sound. The figure approached a step nearer, peering into the
deep gloom of the tent. He caught the silver glint in the firelight
on heavy fur, the whiteness of a hand touching lightly the flap o