d
himself to know fully what he was doing, and was merely following the
instinct of protection.

It was impossible for him to realize the mundane again immediately after
these undreamed of and supernormal experiences. Holding Pearl, who still
clung to him frantically, cowering and trembling against him, he leaned
upon the rough, projecting walls of his cabin and gazed with awed and
still unbelieving eyes into this new and formless world, yet obscured
with flying snow.

Gradually as the air cleared he saw that a new world, indeed, lay before
them. "Look, look, Pearl," he cried, hoping to rouse her from her state
of blind fright. "It has been an avalanche and it is over now."

"No, no," she moaned, and buried her head more deeply in his shoulder.
"I dare not look up. It will come again."

"No, it doesn't happen twice. It is over now and we are safe and the
cabin is safe."

And yet, in spite of himself, he sympathized with her fear more than he
would have admitted either to himself or her. Anything seemed possible
to him now. He had looked upon a miracle. He had seen those immutable
peaks, as stable as Time, bend and bow in their strange, cosmic dance,
for the change in the position of one had created the illusory effect of
a change in all.

"Come, look up, Pearl," he urged. "It is all over and everything is
changed. Look up and get accustomed to it."

Everything was indeed changed. For a few yards before the cabin his path
with its white, smooth walls was intact, but beyond that lay an
incredibly smooth expanse of bare earth. The road was obliterated; the
vast projecting rock ledges which had overshadowed it had disappeared.
They had all been razed or else uprooted like the rocks and trees and
carried on in that irresistible rush. The light poured baldly down upon
a hillside bare and blank and utterly featureless. But far down the road
where the bridge had spanned the canon there rose a vast white mountain,
effectually cutting them off from all communication with the village
below.

Nothing remained of familiar surroundings. This was, indeed, a new
world. At last Seagreave roused himself from his stunned contemplation
of it and bent himself to the task of coaxing Pearl to lift her head and
gaze upon it, too.

At last she did so, but at the sight of that bare and unfamiliar
hillside her terrors again overcame her. "Come," she cried, dragging at
his arm, "we must go--go--get away from here. Dios! Are you mad? It