valley, which was guarded by two sentinel mountains of that jagged
ridge before us. From the top I looked back. Simon was nowhere to be
seen.

"Courage, Jacqueline," I said, patting her arm, "The huts ought to be
here."

Her courage was greater than my own. She looked up and smiled at me.
And so we descended and went on and on, and the sun dipped below the
edge of the world.

The wolf crept nearer, and its howls rang out with piercing strokes
across the silence. My eyes ached so that I could hardly discern the
darkening land, and the snow came down, not steadily, but in swirling
eddies blown on fierce gusts of wind.

And suddenly raising my eyes despairingly, I saw the huts. They stood
about four hundred yards away from where the trail ran through the
mountains.

There were five of them, and they had not been occupied for at least
two seasons, for the blackened timbers were falling apart, and the
roofs had been torn off all but one of them, no doubt for fuel. The
wind was whirling the snow wildly around them, and it whistled through
the broken, rotting walls.

I flung my pack inside the roofed one, and began tearing apart the
timbers of another to make a fire.

Jacqueline stood looking at me in docile faith.

"I can go on," she said quietly. "I can go on, Paul."

I caught her hands in mine. "We shall stay here, Jacqueline," I said.

She did not answer me, but, opening the pack, began the preparation of
our meal, which consisted of some biscuits left from the night before,
when we had made a quantity on the wood ashes. We made tea over the
roaring flames, and sat listening to the wolf's call and the wind that
drove our fire in gusts of smoke and flame.

The wind grew fiercer. It was a hurricane. It drowned the wolf's
call; it almost silenced the sound of our own voices. Thank God that
we had at least our shelter in that storm.

I scooped out a bed for Jacqueline inside the snow-filled hut and
spread it with the big sleigh robe. She lay down in her fur coat, and
I wrapped the ends around her. I looked into her sweet face and
marvelled at its serenity. Her eyes closed wearily.

But, though I was as tired as she, I could not sleep. I crouched over
the fire, pondering over the morrow's acts.

Should I wait for Leroux and shoot him down like a dog if he molested
us? Or should we hide among the hills and watch him pass by? But that
would avail us nothing. If we went on we must encounter hi