The first hour of isolation wore away pretty well, owing to the novelty of the the position; the second also, being devoted to luncheon; the third dragged a good deal; but when it came to the fourth; with light beginning to fail and no word of rescue, matters looked serious.  The cold was becoming intense—­a chill, damp cold that struck every living thing through and through.  What could be keeping the men?  Had they lost their way, or what could possibly have happened?

“This is something like an adventure,” said Lady Arthur cheerily.

“It might pass for one,” said Miss Adamson, “if we could see our way out of it.  I wonder if we shall have to sit here all night?”

“If we do,” said Lady Arthur, “we can have no hope of wild beasts scenting us out or of being attacked by banditti.”

“Nor of any enamored gentleman coming to the rescue,” said Miss Adamson:  “it will end tamely enough.  I remember reading a story of travel among savages, in which at the close of the monthly instalment the travelers were left buried alive except their heads, which were above ground, but set on fire.  That was a very striking situation, yet it all came right; so there is hope for us, I think.”

“Oh, don’t make me laugh,” said Alice:  “I really can’t laugh, I am so stiff with cold.”

“It’s a fine discipline to our patience to sit here,” said Lady Arthur.  “If I had thought we should have to wait so long, I would have tried what I could do while it was light.”

VIII.

At length they heard a movement among the snow, and voices, and immediately a light appeared at the window, shining through the snow-blind, which was swept down by an arm and the carriage-door opened.

“Are you all safe?” were the first words they heard.

“In the name of wonder, George, how are you here?  Where are John and Thomas?” cried Lady Arthur.

“I’ll tell you all about it after,” said George Eildon:  “the thing is to get you out of this scrape.  I have a farm-cart and pair, and two men to help me:  you must just put up with roughing it a little.”

“Oh, I am so thankful!” said Alice.

The ladies were assisted out of the carriage into the cart, and settled among plenty of straw and rugs and shawls, with their backs to the blast.  Mr. Eildon shut the door of the carriage, which was left to its fate, and then got in and sat at the feet of the ladies.  Mr. Ormiston’s servant mounted the trace-horse and Thomas sat on the front of the cart, and the cavalcade started to toil through the snow.

“Do tell us, George, how you are here.  I thought it was only heroes of romance that turned up when their services were desperately needed.”

“There have been a good many heroes of romance to-day,” said Mr. Eildon.  “The railways have been blocked in all directions; three trains with about six hundred passengers have been brought to a stand at the Drumhead Station near this; many of the people have been half frozen and sick and fainting.  I was in the train going south, and very anxious to get on, but it was impossible.  I got to Cockhoolet with a number of exhausted travelers just as your man arrived, and we came off as soon as we could to look for you.  You have stood the thing much better than many of my fellow-travelers.”