IT WAS MID-DAY, and as they marched between the high banks on a hard trail, Joy Gargrave’s heart grew light.

“Another hour, Babette, and we shall be home.”

“Yes,” was the reply, “home! That is what North Star is to us, and I wonder you ever left it, Joy.”

“I was afraid,” answered Joy. “Dick Bracknell’s letter startled me. He plainly meant to assert himself and I was glad of Sir Joseph’s summons to England, because it helped me to get away from the complications here.”

“It does not matter much where one goes,” answered Babette philosophically, “one carries one’s real complications with her. Here or there—what matters? The heart is ever the same.”

“Yes, that is true,” answered Joy, thinking of the complications of her own life. “We are the victims of our emotions quite as much as of circumstances.”

“Of our inexperience more than our emotions, I should say,” answered Babette— “of our inexperience and the ruthlessness of those who are prepared to take advantage of them. But here, better than in most places, we can live our own life, untrammelled, and for the most part free from the worser[165] cares. This lodge of ours is like a sanctuary in the wilderness, and the serenity, the woods, the snow and the silences have their own healing for the troubles of life.”

“Yes, but there is something to be said for companionship with one’s own kind. I notice we are always a little excited when we have callers at the Lodge. We——”

A rifle shot cracked in on her words, and before either of them could speak again, a moose broke suddenly from the woods, and plunged down the steep bank not five hundred yards ahead of them. The wolf-dogs in the sleds gave tongue, and notwithstanding the burden behind them, leaped forward. Joy laughed gaily.

“There’s an end of philosophic reflection. The moose is hit. I wonder who——”

A man emerged from the woods, dropped on one knee, and sighted the wide-horned beast. Then his shot rang, and the moose toppled over in the snow. The hunter stood up and caught sight of the oncoming party. He scrutinized it carefully for a moment and then waved his hand.

“It is George,” cried Babette, naming an Indian servant. “See, he recognizes us.”

The hunter descended the bank, and instead of going to inspect his kill waited for them to come up. As they did so a smile crumpled his grave copper-coloured face.

“How!” he said. “Very glad to see you, Miss Joy and Miss Babette. My words are not as my heart, for my tongue is not easy of speech. But glad am I to behold you, glad as if your coming[166] were the breath of the south spring wind upon the cheek.”

Joy laughed with pleasure. “Not more glad than are we, George. And you must not belittle that tongue of yours. If you only knew it you talk poetry. But tell me, how are things at the Lodge? All right, I hope, and Nanette and the papoose, they are well?”

“They are well,” answered the Indian. “But we dwell not alone. With us are Rayner and two men of the Kwikpak tribe. They are bad men.”

“Rayner!” as she echoed the name Joy’s eyes flashed fire.

“Yes, with two bad men of the Kwikpak tribe.”

“When did they arrive?” asked Joy quickly.

“At nightfall five days ago. They were very weary, having followed the trail hard and long. Rayner brought word from you that he stay to look for some man, but he brought no word of your coming.”

“No, I dare say not,” answered Joy sharply. “He would not expect us so soon. We also have pushed the trail hard. What has Mr. Rayner been doing since he arrived, George?”

“The first day he rest and smoke and ask many questions.”

“Questions? About what?”

“He asked if Nanette or I have beheld two men, one of whom is Corporal Bracknell, who took the Northward trail when you went southward. He ask if we have seen him since that time, and I answer no, for it is the truth, and Rayner he smile[167] to himself as is the way of a man with a hidden thought.”

“And the second man of whom he asked?”

“I know him not!” answered the Indian, “neither him nor the name of Dick which he bore.”

“Dick!” Joy swung round to her companion. “You hear, Babette. He asks after Dick, whose body, as he told me, he had thrust into an ice-hole. I thought when he told me that he lied and now I know.”

She turned to the Indian again. “And the other days?”

“The other days,” answered the Indian gravely, “he drink much brandy and a little coffee, and the two bad men they go on a journey and return yesterday. They bring news I think, for at dawn tomorrow they depart with Rayner.”

“No! Not tomorrow,” cried Joy, “but this very day.”

“That will be as you desire, mistress. When we return——”

“Where are they going? Do you know, George?”

“They take the Northward trail. Rayner tell me that when he have drunk much brandy. ‘From North Star to the North Star we go,’ he say, ‘you old graven image, and when we come back the girl shall be ours!’ I do not understand such words, for there is no girl there, but such are the words that Rayner speak.”

Joy looked at Babette. “He knows something,” she said.

[168]

“Yes,” answered her foster-sister, “but there is one thing he does not know, and that is a woman’s heart. He surely cannot hope——”

“I do not know what he may hope. I know what I shall do. My cousin Adrian is intolerable in his pretensions.”

“What will you do, Joy? I begin to fancy that away from the restraints of civilization Adrian Rayner is possibly a dangerous man. And we are ‘North of fifty-three!’”

“I do not care. I am not afraid. There is, as you once hinted, the law of the wilderness, and at least I will be mistress in my own house.” She turned to her servant. “We will leave you one of the sleds, George. You will then be able to bring some of the meat home. I will talk with you again when you arrive.”

She gave orders for one team to push on and one to remain, then as she and her foster-sister recommenced their march she spoke again.

“I wonder why Adrian Rayner has lingered so long at North Star?”

“He has evidently been using the Lodge as his headquarters whilst he made the necessary inquiries. Also there is another possibility,” answered Babette.

“And what is that?”

“I have a thought that he may be desirous of assuring himself that you have arrived here. It is only a possibility, but it is there.”

“I do not see why——”

“Why do you suppose he wished to marry you?” asked Babette quickly. “Because he loved you?[169] Possibly! But you are a ric............