Who was the friend you mentioned?" he asked in
a low tone.

The man shook his head. "No; what is the use?" he asked wearily. "He
is dead and gone, long ago. I was mistaken, that was all."

Gilbert went away puzzled. The "friend" was dead? Then the man had
not meant Martin, after all. It was a case of conscience making a
coward of him, he reflected. And so the two parted, all unconscious of
how near each had come to giving an uplift to the other's life.

Gilbert drove up the glittering road, following the fairy windings and
turnings of the valley. Down in the shadows the bare trees were vivid
blue, up on the heights the snow was a blinding silver. He was
meditating deeply on John McIntyre's words. They had hurt him more
than his angry accusation that evening in the mill. How he hated
himself! Why not plunge in and do the right thing now, whether Martin
needed it or not, and then, after that, let the future bring what it
would?

A woman's figure appeared on the road ahead of him, carrying a basket,
and explaining by her presence the immaculate state of John McIntyre's
home. Gilbert recognized the shimmer of Elsie Cameron's deep gold hair
with renewed feelings of compunction. If he had only had the calm
courage to walk the path of duty as this girl was doing! He touched
his horse and drew up beside her. The keen air had given her cheeks a
deeper tint, her hair was glorious in the sunlight, and her eyes were
brilliant.

She thanked him smilingly as he helped her into the cutter. He could
not help remembering the last time they had ridden together, and the
disastrous consequences.

They spun along the smooth road, and just as they were rounding a turn
in the winding valley a heavy sleigh, with a load of wood, came out of
the forest and moved slowly along in the track ahead. Gilbert uttered
an exclamation of impatience. "Now we shall have to crawl," he said.
"Sandy might have let us pass."

"Perhaps he didn't see us. He looks preoccupied."

"Likely he's concocting some scheme for sending the minister to Muskoky
for the rest of the winter."

"I really believe he'll drive him away from here some day. No one
knows how much Sandy's conduct has made poor Mr. Scott suffer."

"Well, the end is near, according to Silas Long's predictions. He
prophesies sure retribution, and it's not far off now, he says. Such a
learned astronomer ought to know. Hello! what's the matter?"

The sleigh ahead had st