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His brave horse, obedient yet to his will, ventured once more into that torrent of peril. Virginia, cool and alert, pressed the bridle rein against her horse's neck to turn him. On the bank Lounsbury and Vosper gazed in fascinated terror. Buster wheeled, struggling to keep his feet. Mulvaney pushed on, clear to the deepest, wildest portion of the stream.
For all her outward optimism her heart grew heavy with despair. They crossed the river, coming out where the old moose trail had gone down the ford. Here they had seen the last of Kenly Lounsbury and Vosper, almost forgotten now. Virginia told Harold to stop an instant as she recalled those vents of months before. "So much has happened since then," she said, "If only they had left "
We'd simply have to wait till the snow packed which might not be for months. But we can go on a few days, at least, and ride safely back through two feet of snow or more. Of course it depends on how badly you want to go on." "I want to go more than anything in the world." "Then we will go on. I've already sent Vosper to get the horses." He turned to his work.
But only the forest creatures, such little folk as watch with beady eyes from the coverts all the drama of the wilderness, beheld how they stood that test. For the first few seconds Lounsbury sat upon his horse and simply stared in mute horror. Then he half-climbed, half-fell from the saddle, and followed by Vosper, started running down the river bank.
Although Vosper had been hired for cook, Virginia noticed that Bill kept a watchful eye over the preparation of the food; and she felt distinctly grateful. She saw the grouse in the process of cleaning, and the red stains on Vosper's hands did not repel her at all.
I'm hard to damage, Miss Tremont. I've seen too much of hardship. But I've overslept and there isn't another second to be lost. I've got to dress and go and locate Vosper and Lounsbury." "I suppose you'd better right away. They'll be terribly distressed thinking we're drowned." She turned her back to him, without nonsense or embarrassment, and he started to dress.
I'll get your sweetheart for you if it can be done." To Vosper and Lounsbury the two little sentences were just the assurances of a hired employee, half-felt and forgotten soon. But Virginia heard more clearly. She had a vague feeling that she was a witness to a vow.
Darkness still lay over the river when they went again to their toil. Lounsbury, himself offered to cook breakfast and tried to convince himself the act entitled him to praise. In reality, he was only impatient to hasten their departure. Vosper packed the hungry horses, slyly depositing portions of their supplies and equipment in the evergreen thickets to lighten his own work.
Even Lounsbury had begun to show some eagerness; Vosper, flinching before the hard work of the trail, was jubilant at the thought of a few days' rest. They pushed on into the snow-swept waste. The clouds knit again overhead, but as yet the air was clear of snow. The temperature, however, seemed steadily falling.
And now, looking closer, he saw that the features were not quite the same. There was more breeding, more sensitiveness in Harold's face. And there was also, dim and haunting, some slight resemblance to Kenly Lounsbury, whom he had brought up into Clearwater and who had gone back with Vosper. Yet already his inner consciousness was screaming in his ear the identity of this man. Already he knew.
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