The child was walking sturdily at her side and told her of some Christmas presents Hugo had brought. It was evident that to the children of that family he was a very wonderful being, a sort of Santa Claus who had done his full duty and one to be forever after welcomed with joyous shrieks. And father said he was a very good shot, and Stefan Olsen, the big man, thought there was no one like him. And he could sing songs and tell stories, wonderful stories. Madge, as she listened to the girl, suddenly wondered whether it was not possible that the loneliness of such a life might not in some way have disturbed the man's mind, at least temporarily. Wasn't it possible for one, in such a case, to do queer things and never remember anything about them afterwards? No one better than she knew what a terrible and maddening thing loneliness was. She recollected distracting hours spent in little hall-bedrooms while she tried to mend, after an exhausting day's work, the poor clothing that wore out so terribly soon, and how at times she had felt that she must be becoming crazy. "But no! He couldn't have done it. He--he's a very quiet sensible man, I should think, and--and he wouldn't hurt even a dog," she repeated to herself. They were journeying quite fast over the trail that snaked along through the woods, bending here and there in order to avoid boulders and stumps and fallen trees but always coming in sight of the frozen river again. At times Madge trudged through rather deep snow. Also she stubbed her toes upon rocks and stumbled over branches broken off by the great gales of winter. But it really wasn't very hard. And the child kept on chattering about Monsieur Hugo and asking eager questions about the big city. Was it true that as far as one could see there were houses standing right up against one another for miles and miles, and that people swarmed in them as do the wild bees in hollow trees? It was natural for bees to do such things, and for ants, and for the minnows in shoals down in the river, but why did people have to crowd in such a way? How could they breathe? Finally they came in sight of the shack and the child gave a swift glance. "No smoke, mees," she said. "Heem go away, or mebbe heem seek." Madge hurried along faster for an instant, and then stopped short. What if neither of the child's conclusions was correct? If she went over there and knocked at the door he might come out, looking rather surprised. She had told him that she had come to Carcajou, looking for an unknown husband, for a man she was willing to accept under certain conditions, just because her life had become intolerable. He might lift his brow and perhaps ask her quite civilly to come in. But what would he think? Would he imagine that she was running after him and trying to compel him to marry her? It was not alone the frost that brought color to her cheeks now. No, it would never do.