"Here," said he, giving it to Mrs. LeBrinn, "he said give you that."
The woman tore open the envelope and stared at the slip of paper it contained. She couldn't understand; but the instant Betty saw it she knew the truth. It was the pledge, with Antoine LeBrinn's name signed at the bottom.
For the first time since she entered the cottage, the Frenchwoman raised her head and looked hopeful. She said Antoine always kept his word, and, since she knew he had not been drinking that day, unless he perished in the blizzard, he would find his way home.
A shout from Billy startled every one in the room. "Why, my dog!" he fairly screamed. "He is a St. Bernard, and, oh, Mrs. LeBrinn, you know what St. Bernards are for. He'll find the lost folks!"
"Billy is right," echoed his mother, as the child ran for the dog. "Hero will find them, I know."
Like a flash, the dog darted into the night when he knew what was expected of him, and there were no more tears shed in the sitting-room. The curtains in the bay-window were raised, while the three children, their mother, and Mrs. LeBrinn watched the beacon-fire blazing high at the beginning of the evergreen road.
It was growing colder every minute, though the minutes were long. Men who gave up the search piled timbers on the fire and waited. It was all they could do. At last Hero bounded toward them, and the faint sound of sleigh-bells came on the wind.
Safe was the little Samone,—safe, warm, and sound asleep with 'Phonse. Neither of the children awoke as they were carried into the cottage and placed upon the couch; but they opened wondering eyes when Betty and Gerald and little Billy welcomed their Aunt Florence and their Uncle John, the passengers for whom Antoine had made that trip to St. Ignace.
For a few minutes every one, including Hero, talked at the same time, and nobody listened to what anybody else said until Billy's mother suggested dinner.
