dren.

But after the journey had begun once more we would sit quietly beside
each other, and for long we would hardly utter a word.

I think that she liked best to sit beside me in the narrow sleigh and
lean against my shoulder, her physical weariness the reflection of her
spiritual unrest. She did not want to think, and she wanted me to
shield her.

But even in this solitude fear drove me on, for I knew that a
relentless enemy followed hard after us, camping where we had camped
and reading the miles between us by the smouldering ashes of our old
fires.

At nightfall I would pitch the tent for Jacqueline and place her
sleeping-bag within, and while she slept I would lie by the huge fire
near the dogs, and we kept watch over her together.

So passed three days and nights.

The fourth short day drew toward its end a little after four o'clock.
I remember that we camped late, for the sun had already dipped to the
level horizon and was casting black, mile-long shadows across the snow.

A whistling wind came up. The dogs had been showing signs of distress
that afternoon, pulling us more and more reluctantly, and walking with
drooping ears and muzzles depressed.

I hammered in the pegs and built a fire with dry boughs, collecting a
quantity of wood sufficient to last until morning. Then Jacqueline
made tea, and we ate our supper and crept into our sleeping-bags and
lay down.

"Three more days, dear, at most, and our journey and our troubles will
all be at an end," I had said. "Let us be happy together while we have
each other, and when our mutual need is past I shall stay with you
until you send me away."

"That will never be, Paul," she answered simply. "But I shall be happy
with you while our day lasts."

And I thought of the text: "For soon the long night cometh."

I lay outside the tent, trying to sleep; but could not still my mind.
The uncertainty ahead of us, the knowledge of Leroux behind, tried me
sorely, and only Jacqueline's need sustained my courage.

As I was on the point of dropping asleep I heard a lone wolf howl from
afar, and instantly the pack took up the cry. One of the dogs, a
great, tawny beast who led them, crept toward me and put his head down
by mine, whimpering. The rest roamed ceaselessly about the fire,
answering the wolf's challenge with deep, wolf-like baying.

I drew my pistols from the pockets of my fur coat. It was pleasant to
handle them. They gave me assurance. We we