Below, a long, low building with a lighted window here and there,
surrounded by a heavy growth of trees which are but the earnest of
the illimitable stretch of the Adirondack woods which painted
darkness on the encircling horizon.

In the air, one other sound beside the restless murmur I have
mentioned,--the lap, lap of the lake whose waters bathed the bank
which supported this building.

Such the scene without.

Within, Reuther seated in the glow of a hospitable fire of great
logs, talking earnestly to Mr. Black. As they were placed, he
could see her much better than she could see him, his back being
to the blaze and she, in its direct glare.

He could, therefore, study her features, without offence, and this
he did, steadily and with deep interest, all the while she was
talking. He was looking for signs of physical weakness or fatigue;
but he found none. The pallor of her features was a natural
pallor, and in their expression, new forces were becoming
apparent, which give him encouragement, rather than anxiety, for
the adventure whose most trying events lay still before them.

Crouching low on the hearth could be seen the diminutive figure of
Miss Weeks. She had no time to waste even in a solitude as remote
as this, and was crocheting busily by the firelight. Her
earnestness gave character to her features which sometimes lacked
significance. Reuther loved to glance at her from time to time, as
she continued her conversation with Mr. Black.