Mine did. 'Twas a long while before Old Suke would let us come nearer
the fire. Her old mother was squatting upon the hearth. She looked to be
a hundred and fifty. Her face was like a baked apple,--for she was part
Indian, not very black. She had a check-handkerchief tied round her
head, and an old pea-jacket over her shoulders, with the sleeves
hanging. She hardly noticed us, but sat smoking her pipe, looking at the
coals. 'Twas curious to see Margaret's face by hers in the firelight.

A little after midnight the storm abated, and by four o'clock the stars
were out. I asked Margaret if she would be afraid to stay there, while I
went home to tell the folks what had become of us.

"Oh, no," she said. "'Twas just what she'd been thinking about. She
would be making baskets."--Some girls would never have dared stay in
such a place.

I promised to be back as soon as possible, and left her there by the old
woman.

'Twas just about daylight when I came in sight of father's. Mr.
Nathaniel was walking about the yard, looking up the road at every turn.
He hurried towards me.

"All safe!" I called out.

"Thank God!" he cried. "It has been a dreadful night."

Jamie was in the house. They two had been sitting up. They wouldn't hear
of my going back, but put me into bed, almost by main strength. Then
they started with fresh horses. They took a pillion for Margaret, and a