"Antoine must have decided to stay in St. Ignace, and drive home to-morrow," said their mother, and the family were of the same opinion.
All the afternoon the children had the gayest kind of a time. No thought of the storm outside disturbed their fun. Gerald, Betty, and Billy were too accustomed to blizzards to mind their fury. After the lamps were lighted, they gathered around the piano to sing the familiar carol they loved so well. That Christmas Eve they sang but one verse:
"'Oh, little town of Bethlehem!
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark street shineth
The everlasting light,
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night!'"
The door-bell rang, and Antoine LeBrinn's wife, weeping and wringing her hands, was ushered into the bright sitting-room. She had waited all the afternoon for the return of her husband and children, and at last, leaving Bud and Buzz and Tony with neighbours, had walked to the village, expecting and dreading to find Antoine at the saloons. No one having seen him since morning, she was sure that, unless he had reached the marine reporter's cottage, he was lost on the Straits of Mackinaw, and every one knew what that meant. That night the evergreen road was drifted full, the trees along the way were blown down, and the ice was a trackless wilderness. Even Billy thought of the air-holes and shuddered.
It was the little brother who spoke first, after the sobbing Frenchwoman had told her story.
"Papa," he asked, "why don't you go down and telegraph to St. Ignace?"
"I'll do it, Billy," he answered, and straightway left the cottage. There was a look on his father's face when he returned that Billy had never seen before.
"Antoine left St. Ignace two hours ago," he said to Billy's mother. "Men have already gone to find him, but it is useless."
Billy's father went away, and in that dreadful time of waiting the three children listened to the Frenchwoman's despairing talk. Just that morning her husband had told where his money came from. The old aunt in Canada was dead, and had left her farm and all she owned to Antoine. They had made such happy plans. The little Samone should be a lady, and the boys would no longer be ragged and half-starved. Christmas Day the children were to be told the good news, and before the New Year they would be living in a home of their own in Canada.
The mention of Christmas reminded Billy of the worn envelope left in his care.