light at fantastic angles, and a thin blue line runs between the almost
unbearable general radiance and the sea of ice stretching indefinitely
away. But to the west is a shore, and on it stands a fort and a few
detached houses. Upon the walls of the fort are some guns, and the
British flag is flying above. Beyond these again are the plains of the
north--the home of the elk, musk-ox, silver fox, the white bear and the
lonely races of the Pole. Here and there, in the south-west, an island
of pines breaks the monotony, but to the north there is only the white
silence, the terrible and yet beautiful trail of the Arctic.

The smaller man stands swinging his arms for warmth; the smack of the
leather in the clear air like the report of a gun. Presently, stopping
his exercise, he says:

"Well, monsieur, what do you say?"

Slowly the young man withdraws his eyes from the scene and turns.

"Radisson," he says, "this is much the same story as Bucklaw told
Governor Nicholls. How come you to know of it?"

"You remember, I was proclaimed four years ago? Well, afterwards I fell
in with Bucklaw. I sailed with him to the Spaniards' country, and we
might have got the treasure, but we quarreled; there was a fight, and
I--well, we end. Bucklaw was captured by the French and was carried to
France. He was a fool to look for the treasure with a poor ship and a
worse crew. He was for getting William Phips, a man of Boston, to work
with him, for Phips had got something of the secret from an old sailor,
but when he would have got him, Phips was on his way with a ship of King
Charles. I will tell you something more.' Mademoiselle Leveret's--"