Hemstead watched Lottie with wondering and increasing admiration.
In securing a fire, they escaped all immediate danger, and she
became as cheery as if the disaster, which had threatened even
a fatal termination, were only an episode, and the long, wintry
bivouac, in that desolate place, but a picnic in the woods.
"You are the queerest girl I ever knew, Lottie," said Bel.
"She means by that, you are the best," Hemstead added.
"Come, this is no time for compliments, but for work," said Lottie,
energetically, and she set De Forrest at it also.
The robes were brought from the sleigh, and after the snow had been
trampled down and cleared away between the fire and the ledge, here
they were spread. Addie and Bel were, at first, terror-stricken at
the thought of spending the night in the mountains, but were made
so comfortable that, at last, their tears ceased.
"Our best hope is this brandy," said De Forrest, drawing a flask
from his pocket.
"Nonsense!" said Lottie. "Our best hope is keeping our senses and
a good fire."
But Bel and Addie were ready enough to take the brandy, and were
soon sleeping heavily from its effects, combined with their exposure
to the cold wind. Lottie could not be prevailed upon to take any.
"I want the use of my senses to-night, if ever," she said. "We must
take turns in keeping awake, and you shall have the first watch,
Julian."
Hemstead, at this time, was down getting the horses out of the drift,
that he might tie them near the fire and also under the ledge. De
Forrest set to work very zealously under the stimulus of Lottie's
words and the brandy combined, and gathered the brush-wood that
lay near, and piled it on the fire. Everything seemed to promise
well, and the wearied girl laid herself down by the side of Bel and
Addie, and was soon sleeping as naturally and peacefully as if in
her luxurious apartment at home.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
IN EARNEST.
When Lottie awoke the storm had passed away. The moon, in her last
quarter, was rising in pale, unclouded light over eastern mountains,
and bringing into dusky outline many intervening hills.
At first, bewildered, and not knowing where she was, she rose up
hastily, but after a moment the events of the preceding evening
came to her, and she remembered, with gratitude, how they had found
partial shelter from the storm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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