Remember, M'sieur--and go no farther than the edge of the forest." The window dropped behind him, and he turned toward the dark wall of spruce.

There were six inches of fresh snow on the ground, and the clouds were again drifting out of the sky.

Here and there a star shone through, but the moon was only a pallid haze beyond the gray-black thickness above.

In the first shelter of the spruce and balsam Philip paused.

He found himself a seat by brushing the snow from a log, and lighted his pipe.