rk something, like
a bit of cloth fallen in the snow. As he came close and touched the
cloth he found it to be the covering of a basket almost buried; pushing
away the snow-crusted covering and feeling with eager fingers among the
icy contents, he quickly knew that this was no other than the stolen
silver of which he was in quest. A thrill of gratitude to Fortune for so
kindly a freak had hardly passed through his mind before his eye sought
a depression in the snow just beyond. He saw now that a man was lying
there. The head resting upon an arm was but slightly covered with snow;
the whole form had sunk by its own heat into a cavity like a grave.

Courthope lifted the head; the face was that of the man whom he had seen
yesterday upon the river. The arms, when he raised them, fell again to
the snow like lead, yet he perceived that life was not extinct. Even in
the frost the odour of rum was to be perceived, and breath, although so
feeble as to be unseen, still passed in and out of the tightly-drawn
nostrils. The touch, that would have been reverent to a corpse, was now
rough. He shook the fallen man and shouted. He raised him to a sitting
posture, but finding that, standing as he did upon soft snow, to lift
him was impossible, he laid him again in the self-made grave. That
posture at least would be most conducive to the continued motion of the
heart.

Standing upon the other side of the body, Courthope's shoe struck upon
another hard object which he found to be a case, stolen locked as it
was, which contained, no doubt, the other valuables whose loss Madge had
first discovered. The wretch, weighted by a burden in each hand, had
apparently missed his way when endeavouring to return to the shed in
which he had left his horse, and wandering in circles, perhaps for
hours, had evidently succumbed to drink and to cold, caught as in a trap
by the unusual violence of the storm.

There was nothing to be done but return to the house for Morin's aid,
and, lifting the handles of basket and case in either hand, Courthope
doubled back upon his own track, thankful that he had already attained
to some skill in snow-shoeing. As he neared the house his heart beat
high at the excitement of seeing Madge's delight. He closely scanned the
windows, even the tiny windows in the pointed tin roof, but no eager
eyes were on the look-out.

Loudly he thumped upon the heavy front door. There was somewhat of a
bustle inside at the knock. The snow-