The snow was falling in thick flakes.

Already it covered the ground and lay heavy on the roofs of the outhouses and on the boughs of the leafless trees.

A great calm was on the earth and in the air.
* * * * * Robbie speed on! Lose not an hour now, for an hour lost may be a life's loss.
* * * * * Ralph was turning back into the room, and bolting the outer door, when the landlord entered hurriedly from the passage.

He was excited.
"Is it not--captain, tell me--is it not Wy'bern--your father's home--Wy'bern, on Bracken Mere ?" "It _was_ my father's home--why ?" "Then the bloodhounds _are_ on your trail!" The perspiration was standing in beads on Brown's forehead.
"They talk of nothing to each other but of a game that's coming on at Wy'bern, and what they'll do for some one that they never name.

If they'd but let wit who he is I'd--I'd know them." "Landlord, landlord!" cried a man whose uncertain footsteps could be heard in the passage,--"landlord, bring your two guests to us--bring them for a glass." The fellow was making his way to the room into which Ralph and Sim had been hustled.