As she moved to the door she hesitated. Where was she going to? What object was there in moving there or anywhere else? The wild dream that had come upon her in the big city was dispelled and nothing on earth remained but the end that must come in some way or other. Of course she had no desire to remain in this shack, but neither had she any desire for anything else. What was the use of anything she might do? By this time she was stranded high and dry among breakers innumerable, with never the slightest outlook towards safety. The few dollars in her pockets offered no possibility of return. This man might give her enough to get back, if she asked him. It was the least he could do. But she would rather have torn out her tongue than ask him for money. And it would only be going back to that dreadful city in which she had suffered so much. No, it was unthinkable! Better by far for her to lie down somewhere in that great forest and die. And now she was about to see more strangers and remain over night in new surroundings. Where would she drift to after that? She made a gesture of despair. Her down-hanging arms straightened rigidly at her side, with the fists clenched as when one seeks to be brave in the face of impending agony. Her head was thrown back and her eyes nearly closed. In that position she remained for a moment, her brain whirling, her head on fire with a burning pain. Then the tension relaxed a little and she cast another look about her, without seeing anything, after which she pushed the door open and stepped out upon the crunching snow. Hugo rose at once, albeit somewhat stiffly, and spoke to the dog who stood up, with head turned to watch the proceedings. "I don't think I'd better take the trunk on this trip," he explained. "It would make a rather heavy load for just one dog. We'll take your bag, of course, and I can bring the trunk over to-morrow morning. It will be perfectly safe there by the road. We haven't any thieves in this country, that I know of. Now will you please sit down there, in the middle. Maigan will pull you all right. I'll get the blankets." "But--couldn't I walk? You said it was only a mile. I--I think I could manage that," ventured Madge, dully. "I don't think you could," he answered. "I'm sure you're quite played out. In some places the snow is bound to be soft. I could give you a pair of snowshoes but you wouldn't know how to use them and they'd tire you to death. You've already had a pretty hard day, I know. Maigan won't mind it in the least. He'd take the trunk, too, readily enough, but that would make slow going."