The return of Sam and Kitty when the storm had spent itself, brought him no hope.  They were alone, and Jean was not with them.  The Indians were greatly distressed at the girl’s absence, and shook their heads when Norman asked if they could find her.

“Babby lost,” Sam replied.  “Beeg snow.  Injun no find babby.”

Kitty was inconsolable, and while Sam rebuilt the fire which had gone out, she sat upon the floor, her head covered with an old shawl, and rocked herself to and fro in an agony of grief.  Her sorrow was intense and real, for the girl had become to her like her own child.  Sam, too, was deeply affected, and made no attempt to reprove his wife.  He wandered from room to room, examining every detail of the havoc wrought by the slashers.  He prepared a little food, and took it to the sick man.  But Norman would not touch it, pushing it aside with a faint murmur of thanks.

Slowly the weary day wore out, succeeded by a more weary night to the sufferer upon the couch.  He was weakening fast, and this the Indians knew.  They could do nothing but keep the fires going, place hot cloths from time to time to the sufferer’s side, and offer him a little food.

Morning dawned cold and cheerless.  Norman had slept but little, and the pain in his side was more severe than ever.  Often he turned his eyes toward the door, as if expecting some one.

“Is Dane coming?” he would ask, and when the Indians shook their heads, the light of hope would fade.  But ere long he would rouse up again.  “Is Dane coming?” he would repeat.  “I wonder what’s keeping him.  He should be here by now.”

The Indians sat upon the floor before the fire, awed and attentive.  They seldom spoke, and when they did, their voices were low.  They knew that the white man was sinking rapidly, and that the end was not far away.

About the middle of the afternoon, while an intense silence reigned in the cabin, a sound of voices was heard outside.  Then the door was thrust suddenly open, and Jean entered, her hood covered with snow, and her cheeks aglow with health and animation.  Following her was Dane, who hesitated a little as he stepped inside the room.  He was uncertain what kind of a reception he would receive.

With a cry of joy Kitty sprang to her feet, rushed forward, and threw her arms around the girl.

“Babby safe!  Babby safe!” she murmured.

“Yes, Kitty, I am safe,” Jean assured her, looking fondly upon the faithful Indian.

Then before anything more could be said, Norman partly lifted himself from the couch, and stared hard at the visitors.

“Come here, quick,” he ordered in a hoarse, eager voice.  “Is it true, or am I only dreaming?”

Jean and Dane at once crossed the room, and knelt by the couch.  Impulsively the son caught his father’s left hand in his and raised it to his lips.

“It is no dream, father,” he said.  “I have come back, and Jean is with me.  Do you forgive me?”