ain. This has been a
terrible night; I almost despaired of reaching you!"

"And who comes with you?"

"Your own people; no one else."

"But the cold!"

"It is nothing, with cushions and plenty of buffalo robes. An hour will
take you safely into the city. I must be let out on the way, and get
home on foot. Come, are you ready?"

"In a moment--in a moment!" answered Zillah, gathering up her furs, and
putting on a warm hood. "But, how can we get her dressed and out to the
sleigh? Her clothes are like ice; they were absolutely frozen down!"

"Here, here!" cried Agnes, going into the inner room, and coming forth
with some dark garments across her arms; "fortunately, I left these
things at home. We must get them on, as she sleeps. There is no fear of
waking her, I suppose?"

"No, no! Make haste, if it must be to-night!"

The two women lifted Lina from her couch upon the floor; arranged her in
the garments that Agnes had selected; and, wrapping her in a large
cloak, bore her between them out to a sleigh that had been drawn up near
the house.

The driver appeared quite prepared for the singular appearance of a girl
evidently insensible, for he flung back the fur robes without any
appearance of curiosity; and, when the women had taken their places,
drove away as rapidly as the drifted snow would permit.

CHAPTER LXI.

STRANGE PLANS.

When Lina awoke, she was alone in a chamber that seemed both unfamiliar
and unpleasant, though sumptuous objects met her on every side. The
atmosphere was stifling, as if some pastilles had just been burned in
it, and a heavy pain in the head flung a mistiness all around. She was
surprised to find herself dressed in garments strange as the room; but
the heavy aching of all her limbs, and the glow of coming fever in her
cheek, rendered connected thought impossible. She dropped asleep again,
but only to be aroused by a soft tread that stole through her room, and
the breath of some person bending downward, which made her shudder, as
if it had been the poison of a upas tree floating across her mouth.

"Are you better, Lina? are you awake?"

"Who speaks?" cried the girl, starting wildly up. "Where am I--and who
calls me Lina?"

"It is your mother who speaks--it is her house that shelters you."

"My mother? oh, Father of Heaven! now I remember: take me hence--take me
hence!"

"My child," said the woman Zillah, stepping out from the curtains that
had half concealed her; "let