“I am quite sure that you cannot carry me, for I am as big as you, and heavier,” said Sophy, and Pam knew this was true, for they had weighed each other only two days before, when they were using the big scales that were in the barn. “Perhaps I could hop on one foot like a robin if you held me up.”
“I will hold you,” replied Pam. “Come along, it is much too chilly to linger out here. I don’t want to be obliged to render first aid for frost-bite. It will be quite as much as I can do to doctor your hurt foot. I think it is going to snow again. Ah, that was a flake I felt on my face! Sophy, we must make haste, no matter how it hurts you, dear! I can’t find my way in the falling snow, it bewilders me so dreadfully, and to lose our way means that we must perish miserably almost within sight of home.”
“Clutch me tightly, and don’t take any notice if I groan,” muttered Sophy, who was standing on one foot now, and steeling her courage to endure. “I am not made of heroic stuff, but we have to get home, as you say, no matter at what cost!”
A short distance was traversed: to Sophy it seemed like miles. She had uttered no sound of pain, but what it cost her to put her hurt foot to the ground no one but herself could know. But it was death to linger, and pain did not count when compared with the greater terrors of the forest at night. Then Pam called out in glad relief that she could see the house, Sophy gathered up her courage to endure a little longer, and they pressed forward at the best pace they could make.
“There is a light in our room; did we leave one there?” asked Pam in a bewildered tone as she half-led, half-carried Sophy the remaining distance to the door.
“I am sure that I did not, for I went into the room in the dark; at least, there was no light except the glimmer from the stove.”
“Then Grandfather has come home,” announced Pam. “Unless, indeed, the stove has somehow contrived to set the place on fire.”
“Go and see, go and see!” cried Sophy, wrenching herself free from Pam’s supporting grip, and pushing her forward. “Don’t trouble about me, I can manage. Hurry, Pam, hurry, or the house may be burned down, and think how helpless we are!”
“I am not helpless, and I don’t think it is fire, it doesn’t flicker. Most likely it is Grandfather. Oh, I do hope that he will be nice to us!” Pam darted ahead as she spoke, and opening the door burst with impetuous haste into the living-room. This appeared to be exactly as they had left, it. The lamp was standing on the table, the stove was sending out a cheerful glow, and the place was as cosy and comfortable as any home could be. One rapid glance round Pam gave, then pushed open the door into the best sitting-room. All was dark here, but she knew her way too well to stumble over the furniture, and crossing the floor with a brisk, determined tread, she pushed open the door of the inner room, which they had been using as a bedroom.
The place was not on fire. Her first glance told her that. Her second revealed the fact that no one was there; then all at once she realized that someone had been there, someone who had lighted the lamp which stood on the table by the window, and who had then been at the desk in the corner and had wrenched open the lid.