ter, or stood in some great silent valley, he had learned over and over again that there was no effect without some corresponding cause. He never could believe that things happened according to blind chance. Several times he had tried to force himself to that way of thinking, but all in vain. The great book spread out before him was so unmistakably clear that he could never remain in doubt for any length of time.
So sitting now in the silent cabin he thought of the events which had led him to the side of that lost girl. At first appearance it seemed as if those two guardians of the North were the cause. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that they were but instruments in the hands of a greater force, a Divine power overruling all things. What had led them so unerringly that night from the distant trail where he had seen them the day before? What had changed their course? He could arrive at only one conclusion, and it filled his soul with awe. It thrilled him, too, making him feel that he was surrounded by a sustaining influence working on his behalf. He suddenly thought of the night he had spent in the shack with the sleeping child, and the wonderful vision he had there beheld of the mysterious light, and the strange presence hovering over the little one.
For some time Hugo sat there, thinking of these things. The transformation which had been going on in his soul of late was steadily gaining in strength. A new vision had come to him, and with the vision was a new desire. He felt that he was no longer merely Hugo, the trapper, the outcast, but an instrument in the hands of an unseen power. He looked toward the sleeping girl, and felt that in some way she was being used as an important instrument in the shaping of his
