The sky was white, and leafless maple and evergreen seemed almost alike colourless in the dull, cold air.

Bates had turned from his work to stand for a few moments on the hard trodden level in front of the house and survey the weather.

He had reason to survey it with anxiety.

He was anxious to send the dead man's body to the nearest graveyard for decent burial, and the messenger and cart sent on this errand were to bring back another man to work with him at felling the timber that was to be sold next spring.

The only way between his house and other houses lay across the lake and through a gap in the hills, a way that was passable now, and passable in calm days when winter had fully come, but impassable at the time of forming ice and of falling and drifting snow.