The fireplace was full of blazing pine-knots, which made the room as light as day. Old Suke showed herself a Christian. She told me where to find a shed for my horse; and while I was gone, she took the wet things off Margaret, and rubbed her hands and feet with snow. She took red peppers from a string over the fireplace, boiled them in milk, and made us drink it. I thought of "heaping coals of fire." She dipped up hulled corn from a pot on the hearth, and made us eat. I felt like singing the song of Mungo Park. Margaret kept pretty still. I knew the reason. The warm blood was rushing back to her fingers and toes, and they ached like the toothache. Mine did. 'Twas a long while before Old Suke would let us come nearer the fire. Her old mother was squatting upon the hearth. She looked to be a hundred and fifty. Her face was like a baked apple,--for she was part Indian, not very black. She had a check-handkerchief tied round her head, and an old pea-jacket over her shoulders, with the sleeves hanging. She hardly noticed us, but sat smoking her pipe, looking at the coals. 'Twas curious to see Margaret's face by hers in the firelight. A little after midnight the storm abated, and by four o'clock the stars were out. I asked Margaret if she would be afraid to stay there, while I went home to tell the folks what had become of us. "Oh, no," she said. "'Twas just what she'd been thinking about. She would be making baskets."--Some girls would never have dared stay in such a place. I promised to be back as soon as possible, and left her there by the old woman. 'Twas just about daylight when I came in sight of father's. Mr. Nathaniel was walking about the yard, looking up the road at every turn. He hurried towards me. "All safe!" I called out. "Thank God!" he cried. "It has been a dreadful night." Jamie was in the house. They two had been sitting up. They wouldn't hear of my going back, but put me into bed, almost by main strength. Then they started with fresh horses. They took a pillion for Margaret, and a shovel to dig through the drifts when they couldn't go round. Mother gave me warm drinks, and piled on the bed-clothes. But I couldn't sleep for worrying about Margaret. I was afraid the exposure would be the death of her. About noon Mary came running up to tell me they had just gone past. The window was near my bed. I pulled aside the curtain, and looked out. They were just going over the hill,--Jamie, with Margaret on the pillion, and Mr. Nathaniel along-side. I often think what a mysterious Providence it was that made me the means of bringing together the two persons who, as it turned, controlled my whole life. In fact, it seems as if it were only then that my real life began. * * * * *