ping
ember among its ashes. Round the west there was metallic blue colouring
upon the cloud vault. This colouring was not like a light upon the
cloud, it was like a shadow upon it; yet it was not grey, but blue.
Where the long straight road from Turrifs and the long straight road
from the hills crossed each other, and were crossed by the unprotected
railway track with its endless rows of tree-trunks serving as telegraph
poles, the new station stood.

It was merely a small barn, newly built of pinewood, divided into two
rooms--one serving as a store-room for goods, the other as waiting-room,
ticket office, and living-room of the station-master. The
station-master, who was, in fact, master, clerk, and porter in one, was
as new to his surroundings as the little fresh-smelling pinewood house.
He was a young Englishman, and at the first glance it could be seen he
had not long been living in his present place. He had, indeed, not yet
given up shaving himself, and his clothes, although rough, warm, and
suited to his occupation, still suggested, not homespun, but an outfit
bought of a tailor.

It was about four o'clock on that November afternoon when the new
official of the new station looked out at the dark red land and the
bright-tinted cloud. It was intensely cold. The ruts of the roads, which
were not made of logs here, were frozen stiff. The young man stood a
minute at his door with his hands in his pockets, sniffed the frost, and
turned in with an air of distaste. A letter that had been brought him by
the morning train lay on his table, addressed to "Alec Trenholme, Esq."
It had seen vicissitudes, and been to several addresses in different
cities, before it had been finally readdressed to this new station.
Perhaps its owner had not found the path to fortune which he sought in
the New World as easily accessible as he had expected. Whether he had
now found it or not, he set himself to that which he had found in manly
fashion.

Coming in from the cold without, and shutting himself in, as he
supposed, for the evening, he wisely determined to alleviate the
peculiar feeling of cold and desolation which the weather was fitted to
induce by having an early tea. He set his pan upon a somewhat rusty
stove and put generous slices of ham therein to fry. He made tea, and
then set forth his store of bread, his plates and cup, upon the table,
with some apparent effort to make the meal look attractive. The frying
ham soon smelt delici