On the day of the commencement of the snowstorm Thora, who had not
been to school since her illness, went over to Clouston to visit
her young friend Hilda Paterson. When the storm came on she issued
out of the cottage and took the road as far as Stenness, and over
the undulating land of Sandwick, where the snow wreaths were
already so deep that often on her way she failed to recognize the
landmarks. She travelled in uncertainty as to the direction she was
taking, and felt utterly tired out--for she was not yet
strong--when she came unexpectedly to a little cottage, and, to her
dismay, found she had walked nearly three miles out of the direct
road home.

The cottage was a tiny building of rough stones, and the snow found
its way inside through the wide crevices in the walls. It was the
home of one Mary Firth, a lone old woman who earned her living by
knitting stockings and burning kelp. Opening the door, Thora
entered the only room. There was no one within and the fire was
dead out, for Mary Firth had gone away that morning to Kirkwall to
sell her stock of knitting. Thora was cold and hungry; she
considered it impossible to reach Crua Breck before dark, and the
snow was falling heavily, so she determined to wait till old Mary
returned. She got a few pieces of dry peat from a corner and piled
them on the hearth, then sought for Mary's flint and steel, and
proceeded to kindle a fire. Its warmth was comforting, and she sat
there on a low stool until the peats glowed hot and the kettle
began to boil.

Still Mary did not return. There was no tea to be found in the
cupboard and the only particle of food was a piece of oaten
bannock. There were a few raw potatoes, however, and Thora put some
of these in the fire to roast.

She was looking out at the falling snow through the little window,
and expecting Mary, when in the distance she saw the figure of a
man walking in the direction of Lyndardy farm, and bending forward
as he fought against wind and snow. Behind him was a dog, and she
knew at once that the man was Colin Lothian.

Now Thora had been anxious to meet the old wanderer ever since I
had told her of the wreck of the Undine, and throwing her shawl
over her head she ran out of the cottage to bid him enter and share
the meal she had prepared.

She had not gone far, however, before she observed another person
approaching old Lothian from the opposite direction. This was Tom
Kinlay, and as she recognized him she