Its strange wailings and the shrieking voices which at times seemed borne in the moaning sweep of it no longer sent shivers of apprehension through Peter.

But in that moment when both turned to listen there came a sound which was not like the other sounds they had heard.

It was a voice--not one of the phantom voices of the screaming wind, but a voice so real and so near that for a beat or two even Jolly Roger McKay's heart stood still.

It was as if a man, standing just beyond their snow barricade, had shouted a name.

But there came no second call.