High overhead loomed a shadowy mountain and over its rim came the glow of the dawn.

With a violent lurch the train moved on.

And Roger, lying back on his pillow, looked up at the misty mountain sides all mottled in the strange blue light with patches of firs and birches and pines.

In the narrow valley up which the train was thundering, were small herds of grazing cattle, a lonely farmhouse here and there.

From one a light was twinkling.