* * * * *

When the light failed, and the night had come down on the claims like a
black curtain let fall suddenly, the men left the ground, and stiff with
cold, their muscles almost rigid, plodded slowly and silently back to
the cabin. The hired men dispersed in different directions, some going
down town and some to their cabins near. When Stephen and Talbot entered
they found the fire leaping and crackling as if it had just been tended,
and both men sat down to change their boots in the outer room. The door
into the bedroom was shut, and they supposed Katrine was within. They
were too tired and frozen to speak, and not a word was exchanged between
them. After a time Stephen got up and went into the inner room; there
was no light in it, and the door swung to behind him. Talbot, with a
white drawn face, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

When Stephen entered he thought Katrine was probably asleep upon the
bed, and crossed the room to find a light. When the match was struck and
a candle lighted, he stared round stupidly--the room was empty. He
looked at the bed, Katrine was not there; then his eyes caught a little
square of white paper pinned on to the red blanket. He went up to it,
unpinned it slowly, and read it with trembling fingers. Talbot, waiting
in the other room, hungry and thirsty, got up after a time and began to
lay the supper. This done, he made the coffee, and when that was ready
and still Stephen had not reappeared, he rapped at the door. There
seemed a muffled sound from within, and Talbot pushed the door a little
open. Inside, he saw Stephen sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at
the paper in his hand.

"What's the matter?" said Talbot.

Stephen handed him the paper in a blank silence, and Talbot took it and
held it near the candle. This is what he read:--

"I have gone down to the town to get a little change and to relieve the
dreadful monotony of this life. Don't follow me; just leave me alone,
and I'll come back in a day or two. There's no need to be anxious. You
know I can take care of myself."

Talbot laughed quietly, and walked back into the sitting-room.

"Well, she gives you good advice," he said; "I should follow it. Let her
have a day or two to herself--a day or two of liberty. She'll come back
at the end all the better for it."

Stephen followed him into the firelight; his face was the colour of wood
ash, and his eyes looked haggard and ter