in? Half a minute passed during which
they waited without moving, then Stane flashed a look at his companion.
She was leaning forward, a look of curiosity and expectancy on her
face, but not a single sign of fear.

He rose slowly from his seat, put the unfinished snow-shoe on the
table, and crept towards the door. Whoever the intruder was he had not
moved, and Stane had an odd fancy that he was listening there on the
other side of the rough timbers. He meant to surprise him, but was
disappointed in his purpose, for when he reached the door it was to
find that the wooden bar had been dropped in position by Helen when
they had re-entered the cabin. The bar fitted tightly across the door,
and though he tried his best to move it without noise he failed. The
bar stuck, and when at last he threw the door open, and stepped outside
he knew that he was too late. He looked into the gathering night. His
first swift glance was towards the dark shadows under the trees. There
was no one there. He swung round towards the lake, and dimly through
the darkness descried a figure retreating rapidly northwards. He looked
closely, then suffering something of a surprise, gave a quick hail.

The retreating figure never paused, and never looked round, but kept on
in a bee-line over the untrodden snow. Stane knew that it was useless
to follow, and the bitter cold was already pinching his face and hands
and chilling him to the bone. He turned and hurried into the hut,
flinging the door to behind him, and as he did so, Helen rose to her
feet.

"You saw him?" she cried in some excitement.

"No. I saw her!" answered Stane. "It was a woman."

Helen's surprise was as complete as his own had been. "A woman! Are you
sure?"

"I do not think that I can possibly have been mistaken."

"But who--and why should she come here only to run away?"

"I do not know. I cannot guess, but when I went to the door, I had no
idea that whoever was outside was standing there listening."

"It is very mysterious," said Helen thoughtfully, then suddenly
something occurred to her, and she looked quickly at Stane as if she
were going to speak. He caught the glance.

"You were about to say something?"

"Yes," answered Helen giving a curt little laugh. "But I think I will
keep it to myself. It was only a quite silly idea that occurred to me."

Something in her manner, the curtness of her laugh, her way of
speaking, puzzled Stane, and moved him to press for an answe