ared for his dogs. The girl had brought him hot tea. In the
corner of the fire they two had whispered one to the other--the
already grizzled traveller of the silent land, the fresh, brave
north-maiden. At midnight, their parkas drawn close about their faces
in the fearful cold, they had met outside the inclosure of the Post.
An hour later they were away under the aurora for Qu'Apelle. Galen
Albret's nostrils expanded as he heard the _crack, crack, crack_ of
the remorseless dog-whip whose sting drew him away from the vain
pursuit. After the marriage at Qu'Apelle they had gone a weary journey
to Rae, and there he had first seen Graehme Stewart.

Fort Rae is on the northwestward arm of the Great Slave Lake in the
country of the Dog Ribs, only four degrees under the Arctic Circle. It
is a dreary spot, for the Barren Grounds are near. Men see only the
great lake, the great sky, the great gray country. They become moody,
fanciful. In the face of the silence they have little to say. At Fort
Rae were old Jock Wilson, the Chief Trader; Father Bonat, the priest;
Andrew Levoy, the _metis_ clerk; four Dog Rib teepees; Galen Albret
and his bride; and Graehme Stewart.

Jock Wilson was sixty-five; Father Bonat had no age; Andrew Levoy
possessed the years of dour silence. Only Graehme Stewart and Elodie,
bride of Albret, were young. In the great gray country their lives
were like spots of color on a mist. Galen Albret finally became
jealous.

At first there was nothing to be done; but finally Levoy brought to
the older man proof of the younger's guilt. The harsh traveller bowed
his head and wept. But since he loved Elodie more than himself which
was perhaps the only redeeming feature of this sorry business--he said
nothing, nor did more than to journey south to Edmonton, leaving the
younger man alone in Fort Rae to the White Silence. But his soul was
stirred.

In the course of nature and of time Galen Albret had a daughter, but
lost a wife. It was no longer necessary for him to leave his wrong
unavenged. Then began a series of baffling hindrances which resulted
finally in his stooping to means repugnant to his open sense of what
was due himself. At the first he could not travel to his enemy because
of the child in his care; when finally he had succeeded in placing the
little girl where he would be satisfied to leave her, he himself was
suddenly and peremptorily called east to take a post in Rupert's Land.
He could not disobey and