“It grew very cold in that gorge,” he went on, “and I blamed myself for taking her that trip more and more.  She never complained, never stopped, except to look back and listen for the dog, but shadows deepened under her eyes; the patient lines seemed chiseled where they had been only lightly drawn, and when she caught me watching her and coaxed up her poor little smile, I could have picked her up in my arms and carried her the rest of the way.  But we reached the tree-line before she came to her limit.  It was at the turn in a cliff, and I stopped, looking down across the tops of a belt of spruce, to locate the cabin.  ‘There it is,’ I said.  ’You see that little brown patch down there in the blur of green.  That is your house.  You are almost home.’

“She moved a step to see better and stumbled, and she only saved herself by catching my arm in both hands.  Then her whole body fell to shaking.  I felt unnerved a little, for that matter.  It was a dangerous place.  I had been recklessly foolish to delay her there.  But when I had found a safe seat for her around the cliff, the shivering kept up, chill after chill, and I mixed a draught for her, as I had at the glacier.

“‘This will warm your blood,’ I said, holding the cup for her.  ’Come, madam, we must fight the cold off for another hour; that should see you home.  After I have made a good fire, I am going to show you what a fine little supper I can prepare.  Bear steaks at this season are prime.’

“I laughed to encourage her, and because the chills were still obstinate, I hurried to unstrap my blanket to wrap around her.  And I only remembered the hat when it dropped at her feet.  She did not cry out but sat like a marble woman, with her eyes fixed on it.  Then, after a while, she bent and lifted it and began to shape it gently with her numb little fingers.  She was beyond tears, and the white stillness of her face made me more helpless than any sobbing.  I could think of nothing to say to comfort her and turned away, looking off in the direction of the cabin.  It seemed suddenly a long distance off.

“Finally she spoke, slowly at first, convincing herself.  ’Jerry did bring it across the ice-bridge.  He found Louis and stayed to watch, as I thought.  Sir, now tell me the truth.’

“I turned back to her, and it came bluntly enough.  Then I explained it was not an accident or anything terrible; that the end had come easily, probably the previous night, of heart failure.  ’But I couldn’t nerve myself to tell you up there,’ I said, ’with all those miles of hard travel before you; and I am going back to-morrow, as I promised, to bring him through.’

“She had nothing to say but rose and held out her hand.  In a little while I began to lead her down through the belt of spruce.  I moved very slowly, choosing steps, for she paid no attention to her footing.  Her hand rested limply in mine, and she stumbled, like one whose light has gone out in a dark place.”