night
that meant something, and I saw how faith could hold a soul up when
everything was gone but God."

Saul stopped there with a sudden huskiness in his deep voice, and when
he went on it was in the tone of one who speaks of a dear friend.

"Joe grew still by and by, and I thought he was asleep, for I felt his
breath when I tucked him up, and his hand held on to mine. The cold
sort of numbed me, and I dropped off, too weak and stupid to think or
feel. I never should have waked up if it hadn't been for Joe. When I
came to, it was morning, and I thought I was dead, for all I could see
was that great field of white mounds, like graves, and a splendid sky
above. Then I looked for Joe, remembering; but he had put my coat back
over me, and lay stiff and still under the snow that covered him like
a shroud, all except his face. A bit of my cape had blown over it, and
when I took it off and the sun shone on his dead face, I declare to
you it was so full of heavenly peace I felt as if that common man had
been glorified by God's light, and rewarded by God's 'Well done.'
That's all."

No one spoke for a moment, while the women wiped their eyes, and Saul
dropped his as if to hide something softer than tears.

"It was very noble, very touching. And you? how did you get off at
last?" asked Randal, with real admiration and respect in his usually
languid face.

"Crawled off," answered Saul, relapsing into his former brevity of
speech.

"Why not before, and save yourself all that misery?"

"Couldn't leave Joe."

"Ah, I see; there were two heroes that night."

"Dozens, I've no doubt. Those were times that made heroes of men, and
women, too."

"Tell us more;" begged Emily, looking up with an expression none of
her admirers ever brought to her face by their softest compliments or
wiliest gossip.

"I've done my part. It's Mr. Randal's turn now;" and Saul drew himself
out of the ruddy circle of firelight, as if ashamed of the prominent
part he was playing.

Sophie and her friend had often heard Randal talk, for he was an
accomplished _raconteur_, but that night he exerted himself, and was
unusually brilliant and entertaining, as if upon his mettle. The
Bassets were charmed. They sat late and were very merry, for
Aunt Plumy got up a little supper for them, and her cider was as
exhilarating as champagne. When they parted for the night and Sophie
kissed her aunt, Emily did the same, saying heartily,--

"It seems as if I'd k