be consumed in the fire, or would come out only
brightened and beautified.
The cold weather grew sharply colder. One morning when I arose and went down to the stream to wash my hands and face, and snuff the keen, crisp air, the rushing mountain stream was still ; not even the plunge and gurgle underneath the ice. It was frozen stiff and laid out in a long white shroud of frost and ice, and fairy- work by delicate hands was done all along the border ; but the stream was still- dead, utterly dead.
The strip of sky that was visible above us grew dark and leaden. Some birds flew frightened past, crossing the canon above our heads and seeking shelter ; and squirrels ran up and down the pines and frozen hillsides in silence and in haste. We in stinctively, like the birds, began to prepare for the storm, and stored in wood all day till a whole corner of the cabin was filled with logs of pine and fir, sweet-smelling juniper and manzanita to kindle with, and some splinters of pitch, riven from a sugar pine seamed and torn by lightning, up the hill.
The Prince kept hard at work, patient and cheerful all day, but still he was silent and thought ful. I did not ask him any questions ; I trusted this man, loved him, leaned on him, believed in him solely. It was strange, and yet not strange, con sidering my fervid, passionate nature, my inex perience and utter ignorance of men and things. But he was worthy. I had never seen a full,
