"But they will be back----" Foster-father pointed to the snow that, driven now by a rising wind, had drifted underneath the door.

"Not through that, sister! We may have to stay here till the weather moderates, for none save friends will risk their lives, and these men love us not!" But even as he spoke there was a bustling at the door, Tumbu flew forward, barking loudly, and in stumbled---- Old Faithful and Meroo the cook-boy! They were heavily burdened, half-blinded by the snow, and they had a disquieting tale to tell.

About twelve miles back, just as the snow began to fall, their party, which had been delayed on the main road by a flooded river, had come upon the Captain of the Escort and his three troopers.

Then had ensued a hurried consultation, in which several of the men had flatly refused to go on in face of the coming storm.

It was, they said, sheer madness.