scandal, and for the next few minutes everybody was conjecturing at once.

"Here's Du Meresq," cried Jack, as Bertie came ploughing through the
snow.

"Halloa, guard! what's wrong on the line?"

"Run into a goods' train," said he, keeping on his course to the
Vice-President's sleigh.

"Du Meresq never tells one anything," said Jack; "I hate a mysterious
fellow; somebody's capsized, I suppose, and he's gone for some brandy."

"Perhaps for a shovel," suggested Bluebell. "Colonel Rolleston may have
come to a drift."

"Don't see how we are to reverse our engine," replied Jack, looking each
side of the road, where the snow was piled four or five feet.

Bertie, however, had not gone for a shovel, which would have been
perfectly useless, but to explain the situation and assist in turning
round the sleighs. In front of Colonel Rolleston was a huge rampart of
snow, extending for some distance. The wind setting dead in that
direction, had drifted it across, and buried the track several feet. This
road had been clear the day before, for Bertie and Cecil had driven it to
ascertain, but the wind had changed and snow fallen during the night.

Major Fane's sleigh was successfully turned, after a great deal of
assistance to the horses, who floundered up to their shoulders; and to
this haven of refuge Du Meresq was conducting several young ladies, for