was in this spirit of lightness that she faced all the hardships
incidental to their present life, and it was little wonder that at
times, between her gaiety and her challenging presence, Stane had much
ado to keep his resolve. Half a dozen times a day his resolution was
tested, and one of the severest trials came on the afternoon of that
very day.

The snow had ceased and the night had fallen, and desiring exercise
they left the cabin together to walk in an open glade in the wood which
the strong wind had swept almost clear of snow. Except themselves there
was nothing moving. The vast stillness of the North was everywhere
about them, and a little oppressed by the silence they walked briskly
to and fro, Stane using his injured leg with a freedom that showed that
it was returning to its normal strength. Suddenly the girl laid a
mittened hand on his arm.

"What is it?" he asked quickly.

"Listen!" she said.

He stood there, her hand still on his arm, and a second or two later
caught the sound which she had previously heard. Faintly and thinned by
long distance it came, a long curdling cry.

"What----" she broke off as the cry sounded afresh, and he answered the
unfinished question.

"The hunt-cry of a wolf calling up the pack. There is nothing to fear.
It is miles away."

"Oh," she said, "I am not afraid, I was only wondering what it was."

Her hand was still on his arm, and suddenly their eyes met. Something
in the grey of hers pierced him like a stab of flame. A fierce joy
sprang up within him, filling him with a wild intoxication. His own
eyes burned. He saw the girl's gladness glow in her glance, beheld the
warm blood surge in her face, and fervent words leaped to his lips,
clamouring for utterance. Almost he was overcome, then Helen removed
her hand, and turned as the blood cry of gathering wolves broke through
the stillness. He did not speak, and Helen herself was silent as they
turned towards the cabin, but each had seen deep into the other's
heart, and had felt the call that is the strongest call on earth, the
call of kind to kind, or mate to mate.

Back in the cabin, the man turned feverishly to the task of snow-shoe
making on which he had been engaged. Through his mind with monotonous
reiteration beat a phrase that he had read long ago, where, he had
forgotten. "My salvation is in work, my salvation is in work!" He
worked like a man possessed, without looking up, whilst the girl busied
herself with u