least until the supply-boat came down again in the spring and orders
arrived from the Government in Quebec. Why not? She was a woman, it is
true. But if a woman can do a thing as well as a man, why should she not
do it? Besides, Nataline could do this particular thing much better
than any man on the Point. Everybody approved of her as the heir of her
father, especially young Marcel Thibault.

What?

Yes, of course. You could not help guessing it. He was Nataline's lover.
They were to be married the next summer. They sat together in the best
room, while the old mother was rocking to and fro and knitting beside
the kitchen stove, and talked of what they were going to do. Once in a
while, when Nataline grieved for her father, she would let Marcel put
his arm around her and comfort her in the way that lovers know. But
their talk was mainly of the future, because they were young, and of the
light, because Nataline's life belonged to it.

Perhaps the Government would remember that year when it was kept going
by hand for two months, and give it to her to keep as long as she lived.
That would be only fair. Certainly, it was hers for the present. No one
had as good a right to it. She took possession without a doubt. At all
events, while she was the keeper the light should not fail.

But that winter was a bad one on the North Shore, and particularly at
Dead Men's Point. It was terribly bad. The summer before, the fishing
had been almost a dead failure. In June a wild storm had smashed all
the salmon nets and swept most of them away. In July they could find no
caplin for bait for the cod-fishing, and in August and September
they could find no cod. The few bushels of potatoes that some of the
inhabitants had planted, rotted in the ground. The people at the Point
went into the winter short of money and very short of food.

There were some supplies at the store, pork and flour and molasses,
and they could run through the year on credit and pay their debts the
following summer if the fish came back. But this resource also failed
them. In the last week of January the store caught fire and burned up.
Nothing was saved. The only hope now was the seal-hunting in February
and March and April. That at least would bring them meat and oil enough
to keep them from starvation.

But this hope failed, too. The winds blew strong from the north and
west, driving the ice far out into the gulf. The chase was long and
perilous. The seals were f