how I had stood out of Dudley's way, that I didn't expect, of
course, that she could care about an Indian-faced fool like me,
when--suddenly--I knew! Like roses and silver trumpets and shelter out
there in the homeless snow, _I knew_! All Paulette said was, "Oh,
Nicky," again. But the two of us were in each other's arms.

I don't know how long we clung or what we said. But at last I lifted my
Indian-dark head from her gold one and spoke abruptly out of Paradise.
"By gad, I have it!"

"Have what?" Paulette gasped. "Oh, you certainly have most of my hair;
it's all wound up in your coat buttons--if you mean that!"

I didn't. "I meant I knew where we could go, and that's to Skunk's
Misery," I harked back soberly, remembering the boy I had left there
with a fire and shelter anyhow, if not food.

"But you said it was a horrible place!"

"So it is, when you have anywhere else to go. But we can't try the
Halfway with Macartney's men in it, and neither of us could make
Caraquet to-night. We've got to have shelter, darling."

Paulette stopped plaiting her hair in a thick rope. "Say that again,"
she ordered curiously.

"What--Skunk's Misery?" But suddenly I understood, and used that word I
had never said aloud before:

"_Darling_ darling, Skunk's Misery is our only chance. Get up and come
on!"

But she answered without moving.

"Want to tell you something first. The tunnel falling in wasn't all the
reason I ran after you. I thought--thought Dick might not dare to shoot
at you if I were between you and him, so----Oh, Nicky, _don't_ kiss my
horrid, chapped hands!"

But I was glad to hide my humbled face on them, remembering how I had
stormed at her. I muttered, "Why didn't you tell me--out there on the
lake?"

"Well, you were pretty unpleasant, and"--as I kissed her, my dear love I
had never thought to touch--"oh, Nicky, how could I tell you? I said
everything to you last night but '_Nicholas Dane Stretton, I love
you!_'--and all the notice you took was to kneel perfectly silent, with
a face as long as your arm. You never even answered me, when I called
you Nicky by mistake!"

I hadn't dared. But it was no time to be talking of those things. Let
alone that my wet breeches had frozen till I felt as if my legs didn't
belong to me, we had landed exactly where old Thompson had been drowned.
I wanted to get away from there, quickly; leaving no more trail than was
necessary. I looked round me and saw how to do it.

In f