The next morning those who had noticed the strained relations of Miss
Kitty and Mr. Gunn were not surprised that the latter was recalled on
pressing business to New York by the first train; but it was a matter of
some astonishment to Gabriel Lane and Marie du Page that Uncle Sylvester
should have been up early, and actually accompanied that gentleman
as far as the station! Indeed, the languid explorer and gold-seeker
exhibited remarkable activity, and, clad in a rough tourist suit,
announced, over the breakfast-table, his intention of taking a long
tramp through the woods, which he had not revisited since a boy. To this
end he had even provided himself with a small knapsack, and for once
realized Kitty's ideal of his character.

"Don't go too far," said Gabriel, "for, although the cold has moderated,
the barometer is falling fast, and there is every appearance of snow.
Take care you are not caught in one of our blizzards."

"But YOU are all going on the lake to skate!" protested Uncle Sylvester.

"Yes; for the very reason that it may be our last chance; but should it
snow we shall be nearer home than you may be."

Nevertheless, when it came on to snow, as Gabriel had predicted, the
skating party was by no means so near home as he had imagined. A shrewd
keenness and some stimulating electric condition of the atmosphere had
tempted the young people far out on the lake, and they had ignored the
first fall of fine grayish granulations that swept along the icy surface
like little puffs of dust or smoke. Then the fall grew thicker, the gray
sky contracted, the hurrying flakes, dashed against them by a fierce
northwester, were larger, heavier, and seemed an almost palpable force
that held them back. Their skates, already clogged with drift, were