living, and that
fully six months had elapsed since my sister, accompanied by the man who
lies yonder, had set out to join her half brother, whom she had never
seen, and to share with him the personal fortune of their common father;
for the hereditary acres could not, by the laws of Denmark, fall to my
lot, but went to the next nearest male relative.

"Since that time I have sought everywhere for tidings of my sister's
fate, or news of the whereabouts of that man. I heard of him once as a
slaver, and a year ago I learned of his having been seen on this coast.
I have but one more explanation to make, and that is of the strange
statement I made to you, when we stood alone looking across the moonlit
waste of the drifting pack.

"About a month before you hired me at the trading post, I met Krasippe,
now a very old man, and claiming some power as a prophet, or 'angekok,'
among his people; for, although Christianized, they have not thrown off
many of their old superstitions. He took me in his arms and wept over
me, and growled a bitter curse on the treachery of his old associate.
Then he appeared lost in deep thought, which seemed to absorb every
sense, and his countenance became almost terrible in its fixed
expression. At last, as if by no volition of his own, he uttered, in
low, stern tones, the following rhapsody:--

"'You will meet in the desert of ice the man who will lead you to your
heart's dearest wish. He shall lose, and you will gain.'"

La Salle's face was pale, and his lips firmly set, as he listened to the
ending of this strange recital; but he took up the broken chain of
evidence, with the firm intention of finding the missing links.

"Did you read my letter because you thought that Miss Randall might
prove to be your sister?"

"Yes, Charley, I did. Her name was Pauline Hubel. She was named after
our father, Paul Hubel. My name is Regnar Orloff Hubel."

"Well, Regnie, all I can tell you now is, that the young lady's English
is not the best in the world, and that she is an orphan child. Of the
whereabouts of her adopted father she knows nothing, but in a book which
I took up there one day, I found written, 'A. P. Randall;' and Mrs.
Randall said--"

"What?" asked Regnar, hoarsely.

"That it belonged to her brother. Now, Regnie," said La Salle, kindly,
"you know all that I can tell you. Perhaps you may find in the hilt of
yonder antique weapon the clew to much more. But we have other duties to
perform;