said. "We are going
into the sunlight, out of the shadow;" and she glanced back at the west,
which was of a slaty blackness.

"I like it not!" said Alessandro. "The shadow follows too fast!"

Indeed it did. Even as he spoke, a fierce wind blew from the north, and
tearing off fleeces from the black cloud, sent them in scurrying masses
across the sky. In a moment more, snow-flakes began to fall.

"Holy Virgin!" cried Alessandro. Too well he knew what it meant. He
urged the horses, running fast beside them. It was of no use. Too much
even for Baba and Benito to make any haste, with the heavily loaded
wagon.

"There is an old sheep-corral and a hut not over a mile farther, if we
could but reach it!" groaned Alessandro. "Majella, you and the child
will freeze."

"She is warm on my breast," said Ramona; "but, Alessandro, what ice in
this wind! It is like a knife at my back!"

Alessandro uttered another ejaculation of dismay. The snow was fast
thickening; already the track was covered. The wind lessened.

"Thank God, that wind no longer cuts as it did," said Ramona, her teeth
chattering, clasping the baby closer and closer.

"I would rather it blew than not," said Alessandro; "it will carry the
snow before it. A little more of this, and we cannot see, any more than
in the night."

Still thicker and faster fell the snow; the air was dense; it was, as
Alessandro had said, worse than the darkness of night,--this strange
opaque whiteness, thick, choking, freezing one's breath. Presently
the rough jolting of the wagon showed that they were off the road. The
horses stopped; refused to go on.

"We are lost, if we stay here!" cried Alessandro. "Come, my Benito,
come!" and he took him by the head, and pulled him by main force back
into the road, and led him along. It was terrible. Ramona's heart sank
within her. She felt her arms growing numb; how much longer could she
hold the baby safe? She called to Alessandro. He did not hear her; the
wind had risen again; the snow was being blown in masses; it was like
making headway among whirling snow-drifts.

"We will die," thought Ramona. "Perhaps it is as well!" And that was the
last she knew, till she heard a shouting, and found herself being shaken
and beaten, and heard a strange voice saying, "Sorry ter handle yer so
rough, ma'am, but we've got ter git yer out ter the fire!"

"Fire!" Were there such things as fire and warmth? Mechanically she put
the baby into the unknown a