* * *

Sergeant Williamson's suspicion that he might be getting religion became
a reality, for a time, that winter, after The Miracle.

It had been a blustery day in mid-January, with a high wind driving
swirls of snow across the fields, and Colonel Hampton, fretting indoors
for several days, decided to go out and fill his lungs with fresh air.
Bundled warmly, swinging his blackthorn cane, he had set out,
accompanied by Dearest, to tramp cross-country to the village, three
miles from "Greyrock." They had enjoyed the walk through the white
wind-swept desolation, the old man and his invisible companion, until
the accident had happened.

A sheet of glassy ice had lain treacherously hidden under a skift of
snow; when he stepped upon it, his feet shot from under him, the stick
flew from his hand, and he went down. When he tried to rise, he found
that he could not. Dearest had been almost frantic.

"Oh, Popsy, you must get up!" she cried. "You'll freeze if you don't.
Come on, Popsy; try again!"

He tried, in vain. His old body would not obey his will.

"It's no use, Dearest; I can't. Maybe it's just as well," he said.
"Freezing's an easy death, and you say people live on as spirits, after
they die. Maybe we can always be together, now."

"I don't know. I don't want you to die yet, Popsy. I never was able to
get through to a spirit, and I'm afraid.... Wait! Can you crawl a
little? Enough to get over under those young pines?"

"I think so." His left leg was numb, and he believed that it was broken.
"I can try."

He managed to roll onto his back, with his head toward the clump of pine
seedlings. Using both hands and his right heel, he was able to propel
himself slowly through the snow until he was out of the worst of the
wind.

"That's good; now try to cover yourself," Dearest advised. "Put your
hands in your coat pockets. And wait here; I'll try to get help."

Then she left him. For what seemed a long time, he lay motionless in the
scant protection of the young pines, suffering miserably. He began to
grow drowsy. As soon as he realized what was happening, he was
frightened, and the fright pulled him awake again. Soon he felt himself
drowsing again. By shifting his position, he caused a jab of pain from
his broken leg, which brought him back to wakefulness. Then the deadly
drowsiness returned.

* * * * *

This time, he was wakened by a sharp voice, mingled with a thr