he truth of that answer; for we both heard
sounds, which no one can interpret but he whose well beloved is lost in
the storm.

And the wind burst upon us again, catching my empty denial and tossing
the words to upper air with eldritch laughter. Then there was a lull,
and I felt rather than heard the choking back of stifled moans and knew
that the man by my side, who had held iron grip of himself before other
eyes, was now giving vent to grief in the blackness of night.

At last a red light gleamed from the window of a low cot. That was the
signal for us to turn abruptly to the left, entering the forest by a
narrow bridle-path that twisted among the cedars. As if to look down in
pity, the moon shone for a moment above the ragged edge of a storm
cloud, and all the snow-laden evergreens stood out stately, shadowy and
spectral, like mourners for the dead.

Again the road took to right-about at a sharp angle and the broad
Chateau, with its noble portico and numerous windows all alight,
suddenly loomed up in the center of a forest-clearing on the mountain
side. Where the path to the garden crossed a frozen stream was a small
open space. Here the Indians had been encamped. We hallooed for servants
and by lantern light examined every square inch of the smoked snow and
rubbish heaps. Bits of tin in profusion, stones for the fire, tent
canvas, ends of ropes and tattered rags lay everywhere over the black
patch. Snow was beginning to fall heavily in great flakes that obscured
earth and air. Not a thing had we found to indicate any trace of the
lost woman and child, until I caught sight of a tiny, blue string
beneath a piece of rusty metal. Kicking the tin aside, I caught the
ribbon up. When I saw on the lower end a child's finely beaded moccasin,
I confess I had rather felt the point of Le Grand Diable's dagger at my
own heart than have shown that simple thing to Hamilton.

Then the snow-storm broke upon us in white billows blotting out
everything. We spread a sheet on the ground to preserve any marks of
the campers, but the drifting wind drove us indoors and we were
compelled to cease searching. All night long Eric and I sat before the
roaring grate fire of the hunting-room, he leaning forward with chin in
his palms and saying few words, I offering futile suggestions and
uttering mad threats, but both utterly at a loss what to do. We knew
enough of Indian character to know what not to do. That was, raise an
outcry, which migh