hey were practised though in their handling of our
pillows, for had I been really asleep I should never have felt anything.

They looked everywhere, they felt everywhere, everywhere but in the
right place, and then with a hardly-concealed murmur of dissatisfaction
they went from the room, closing the door after them. Mother and I lay
quiet. The only thing we did was to hold one another's hands under the
bed-clothes, and to press our shoulders close together.

Only once again did the door open, and that was to admit our escort, who
had brought back our handbags.

And then the door closed for good and all, but we never said a word all
the long night through, though each knew and felt that the other was
awake. The grey dawn stealing in saw us with eyes strained and wide, and
we turned and looked at each other, and mother kissed me. It was
Christmas Day.

Our hearts were braver with the daylight, and what was joy unspeakable
was to see the snow melting fast away under the heavy thaw that had set
in during the early hours of the dawn. Our journey could be pursued
without much difficulty, for if need be we could walk every step of the
way.

When it was quite light we got up and dressed. I undid my stitching of
the night before, gave mother back the gold safe and intact, and then
sewed up the incision as neatly as I could.

We went down hatted and cloaked to the room we had supped in the night
before. It presented no change. Over the fire the old woman bent,
stirring something in a saucepan; our escort was seated at the table,
and by the stove sat the hunchback nursing his knees--with only one
difference,--there was no grin upon his face. He looked like a man
thwarted.

We had just bade them good morning and the old woman was asking us how
we had slept, when the noise of wheels and horses' feet sounded outside.
It was the second _diligence_. The landlord of the inn had told the
conductor to call and see if we had been forced to take refuge in our
escort's house. The jovial conductor was beaming all over as he stamped
his wet feet on the stone floor of the kitchen, laughing at the
miraculous disappearance of all the snow. His very presence seemed to
put new life into us.

"And what am I indebted to you," asked mother, "for the kindly shelter
you have afforded us?"

Our escort shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever madame wishes," was his
reply.

So mother placed a napoleon upon the table. It was too much, I always
main