She reached the shelter and entered, borne upon snowflakes.  Yes, the body was still there.  She hovered over it like a bird over its nest.  For Scott’s sake, should she not return?

And then very suddenly there came a great sound close to her—­the loud barking of a dog;—­and in a second—­in less—­she had returned.

A long, long shiver went through the poor frozen thing that was herself, and she knew that she moaned as one awaking....

Vaguely, through dulled senses, she heard the great barking yet again, and something immense that was furry and soft brushed against her.  She heard the panting of a large animal close to her in the hut, and very feebly she put out a hand.

She did not like that loud baying.  It went through and through her brain.  She was not frightened, only dreadfully tired.  And now that she was back again in the body, she longed unspeakably to sleep.

But the noise continued, a perfect clamour of sound; and soon there came other sounds, the shouting of men, the muffled tread of feet sorely hampered by snow.  A dim light began to shine, and gradually increased till it became a single, piercing eye that swept searchingly around the wretched shelter.  An arc of fog surrounded it, obscuring all besides.

Dinah gazed wide-eyed at that dazzling arc, wondering numbly, whence it came.  It drew nearer to her.  Its brightness became intolerable.  She tried to shut her eyes, but the lids felt too stiff to move.  Again, more feebly, she moved her hand.  It would be terrible if they thought her dead, especially after all the trouble she had taken to return.

And then very suddenly the deadly lethargy passed from her.  All her nerves were pricked into activity.  For someone—­someone—­was kneeling beside her.  She felt herself gathered into strong arms.

“Quick, Wetherby!  The brandy!” Ah, well she knew those brief, peremptory tones!  “My God!  We’re only just in time!”

Fast pressed against a man’s heart, a faint warmth went through her.  She knew an instant of perfect serenity; but the next she uttered a piteous cry of pain.  For fire—­liquid, agonizing—­was on her bloodless lips and in her mouth.  It burned its ruthless way down her throat, setting her whole body tingling, waking afresh in her the power to suffer.

She turned, weakly gasping, and hid her face upon the breast that supported her.

Instantly she felt herself clasped more closely.  “It’s all right, little darling, all right!” he whispered to her with an almost fierce tenderness.  “Take it like a good child!  It’ll pull you through.”

With steady insistence he turned her face back again, chafing her icy cheek hard.  And in a moment or two another burning dose was on its way.

It made her choke and gurgle, but it did its work.  The frozen heart in her began to beat again with great jerks and bounds, sending quivering shocks throughout her body.