do as I tell you, and mind
your business."

Annie turned sullenly and walked toward the door. At that moment Laura
noticed the letter which still lay on the table. She called the maid
back:

"Wait a minute. I want you to mail a letter."

Picking up the letter, she held it out to the negress, who put out her
hand to receive it. Laura still hesitated. Looking at the envelope long
and wistfully, her nerve failed her. Dismissing the girl with a
gesture, she said:

"Never mind. I'll mail it myself."

The negress went out. When the door shut behind her, Laura went quickly
to the table and held the letter over the flame of the alcohol lamp.
The envelope speedily ignited. As it burned she held it for a moment in
her fingers, and when half-consumed, threw it into a waste-jar. Sitting
on the side of the bed, she watched the letter burn, and when the last
tiny flame flickered out, she sank down on the bed, her head supported
on her elbows, her chin resting in her hands, thinking, thinking.

CHAPTER XIV.

Hugging the grateful warmth of an expiring camp fire, the figures of
two stalwart men lay stretched out on the hard, frozen ground, bundled
up in heavy army blankets. The mercury was forty-five below zero and
still falling, but they did not appear to mind. Gaunt and hollow-eyed,
enfeebled from long fasting, they had succumbed at last to utter
physical exhaustion, and fallen into a sound and merciful sleep.

All Nature slept with them. The distant howling of wolves and the
occasional scream of an eagle only served to intensify the universal
stillness. The sepulchral silence of the Far North enveloped everything
like an invisible mantle. Away to the east, the first gray mists of
approaching daylight were creeping over the jagged mountain tops. The
cold was intense. The snow was so deep in spots that the entire
landscape was obliterated; only the trees, marvellously festooned with
lace-like icicles, and a few huge, fire-scarred rocks which here and
there thrust their jagged points above the surface, remained of the
desolate marsh and forest land. Everywhere, as far as the eye could
carry, was a trackless waste of snow drift.

The men lay motionless; only by their deep, rhythmical breathing could
one know that they were alive. Dead to the world, they were as
insensible to the cutting wind which, with the force of a half-gale,
swept over the icy plains, sending the last flickering embers of their
fire up in a cloud