ly among the boulders, the travellers at last
reached a log-hut which was so small, weather-worn, and grey, that, from
a short distance, it might have easily been mistaken, even in daylight,
for one of the rocks by which it was surrounded.

The door stood wide open, and through it streamed the light of a roaring
fire of wood. So powerful was the contrast between the ruddy light and
the cold grey scene without, that to the approaching travellers it
appeared as if the whole interior of the hut glowed with fervent heat.

In the small doorway stood the figure of a man who was so large as
almost to fill up the entrance, and so black, by contrast with the
glowing background, that neither feature nor form was distinguishable
save his sharp outline. The outline, however, was a remarkably telling
one. It told of a broad chest and square shoulders, of massive limbs,
and an easy air, and a sturdy attitude, and suggested difficulty in the
way of entering that hut without leave asked and obtained.

"Hallo!" exclaimed the outline, in a voice so deep that it must have
been unfathomable.

"How d'ee do, Bellew?" cried Reginald Redding, as he drove into the
stream of light, pulled up, and sprang from the sleigh.

"Hearty, sir, hearty, thank 'ee," replied the outline, advancing and
becoming a little more visible on the surface as he did so. "Hallo! Le
Rue, how are 'ee? Glad to see you both. Step in. A good fire on a
coldish night is cheery--ain't it, Mister Redding?"

"Indeed it is, Bellew, especially when the night happens to be also
darkish."

"Ha! oui," interposed Le Rue, bustling into the hut with the bear-rug,
"it vas so darkish dat ve capsize under de cliff an' a'most knock de
whole affair to smattoms--sleigh, cheval, an' peepil."

"I'm glad to see that the `peepil' is all right, however," said Bellew,
glancing at his visitors with what may be called a grave smile; "it
might have bin worse, for that's an ugly corner under the cliff, an'
needs careful drivin' even in daylight."

"I've not come off quite scatheless, however," said Redding, rubbing the
top of his head tenderly, "for here is a bump that would perplex the
whole college of phrenologists."

"Skin broke, sir?" asked Bellew, advancing and examining the part. "No,
all right. A good supper will be the best cure for it. If I was a
phrenologist now, I'd name it the bump of top-heaviness. Sit down, sir;
sit down, Le Rue, an' look after my kettle while I see