at hand it glittered like a carpet of diamonds, while the
distance was of a pale blue, merging to grey on the horizon. A far-off
belt of pines against a sky absolutely cloudless suggested infinite
space--immeasurable distance. Nothing was sharp and clearly outlined,
but hazy, silvery, as seen through a thin veil. The sea would seem to be
our earthly picture of infinite space, but no sea speaks of distance so
clearly as the plain of Lithuania--absolutely flat, quite lonely. The
far-off belt of pines only leads the eye to a shadow beyond, which is
another pine-wood; and the traveller walking all day towards it knows
that when at length he gets there he will see just such another on the
far horizon.

Louis sat down wearily beside Barlasch. As far as eye could see, they
were alone in this grim white world. They had nothing to say to each
other. They sat and watched the sun go down with drawn eyes and a queer
stolidity which comes to men in great cold, as if their souls were numb.

As the sun sank, the shadows turned bluer, and all the snow gleamed like
a lake. The silver tints slowly turned to gold; the greys grew darker.
The distant lines of pines were almost black now, a silhouette against
the golden sky. Near at hand the little inequalities in the snow loomed
blue, like deeper pools in shallow water.

The sun sank very slowly, moving along the horizon almost parallel with
it towards two bars of golden cloud awaiting it, the bars of the West
forming a prison to this poor pale captive of the snows. The stems of a
few silver-birch near at hand were rosy now, and suddenly the snow
took a similar tint. At the same moment, a wave of cold seemed to sweep
across the world.

The sun went down at length, leaving a brownish-red sky. This, too,
faded to grey in a few minutes, and a steely cold gripped the world as
in a vice.

Louis d'Arragon made a sudden effort and rose to his feet, beneath which
the snow squeaked.

"Come," he said. "If we stay, we shall fall asleep, and then--"

Barlasch roused himself and looked sleepily at his companion. He had a
patch of blue on either cheek.

"Come!" shouted Louis, as if to a deaf man. "Let us go on to Kowno, and
find out whether he is alive or dead."

CHAPTER XX. DESIREE'S CHOICE.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run,
That our devices still are overthrown.
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

Rapp found himself in a stronghold which was