ing in this direction, and less danger of
open water, which was the only thing now to be feared. The hope of
reaching the shore was now strong within me. That shore, I could
perceive, must be some distance below Quebec; but how far I could not
tell. I could see the dark outline of the land, but Quebec was now no
longer perceptible through the thick storm of sleet.

For a long time, my companion held out nobly, and sustained the rapid
progress which I was trying to keep up; but, at length, she began to
show evident signs of exhaustion. I saw this with pain, for I was
fearful every moment of some new circumstance which might call for
fresh exertion from both of us. I would have given any thing to have
had the sleigh--which we were forced to relinquish. I feared that her
strength would fail at the trying moment. The distance before us was
yet so great that we seemed to have traversed but little. I insisted on
her taking my arm and leaning on me for support, and tried to cheer her
by making her look back and see how far we had gone. She tried to
smile; but the smile was a failure. In her weakness, she began to feel
more sensibly the storm from which she had been sheltered to some
extent before she left the sleigh. She cowered under the fierce pelt of
the pitiless sleet, and clung to me, trembling and shivering with cold.

On and on we walked. The distance seemed interminable. The lady kept up
well, considering her increasing exhaustion, saying nothing whatever;
but her quick, short breathing was audible, as she panted with fatigue.
I felt every shudder that ran through her delicate frame. And yet I did
not dare to stop and give her rest; for, aside from the imminent danger
of losing our hope of reaching land, a delay, even to take breath,
would only expose her the more surely to the effect of the cold. At
last, I stopped for a moment, and drew off my overcoat. This, in spite
of her protestations, I forced her to put on. She threatened, at one
time, to sit down on the ice and die, rather than do it.

"Very well, madame," said I. "Then, out of a punctilio, you will
destroy, not only yourself, but me. Do I deserve this?"

At this, tears started to her eyes. She submitted.

"Oh, sir," she murmured, "what can I say? It's for your sake that I
refuse. I will submit. God bless you--who sent you to my help! God
forever bless you!"

I said nothing.

On and on!

Then her steps grew feebler--then her weight rested on me more h