It was late in the day when Broom awoke from his long season of unconsciousness, for slumber it could hardly be called. Rising from his elbow, he gazed about him. His head ached excruciatingly. His brain seemed on fire. His tongue felt tough and dry so that he found it hard to articulate. With a moan he fell back upon the pillow to collect his scattered senses and as he slowly awoke to the full consciousness of what he had done, a sentiment of bitterness rose in his mind against himself.
Presently he dropped over the side of the bunk and reached for the bottle with an unsteady hand. As he put it to his trembling lips a little of the liquor trickled down his chin, and a sudden revulsion of feeling came over him. Pushing the bottle away with a look of malignant hate he paced the floor with short unsteady steps, and with his long hair and whiskers matted and disheveled, his face swollen and flushed, his eyes intensely blood-shot and whole frame trembling violently, he was indeed a pitiable sight.
Presently the distracted man took his resolution. He caught up his coat and struggled into it, but when it came to securing the buttons his unsteady hands fumbled and refused their office. With an exclamation of impatience he again reached for the bottle, and this time he drained it to the dregs. Then, pulling on his cap savagely, he rushed from the house.
But his perambulations were soon cut short and he discovered himself stuck in the deep snow, for he had left his snow-shoes behind. However, he did not return for them; instead he took a circuitous path made hard by constant usage and leading toward the open, quite unaware that Kasba, ardently persuaded by David, who wished to shoot some birds, had also taken this easy route and was coming towards him.
The boy and girl had gone but a short distance when a flock of partridges rose with a whir-r-r and flew to the rocks above them, and David with boyish enthusiasm scrambled up the heights after the birds, saying he would rejoin the girl farther down the track.
Walking slowly with drooping head, Kasba went thoughtfully along the path before her. She knew every foot of the ground over which she went. Suddenly she became aware of the close presence of another, and starting she raised her frightened eyes. Before her, leaning against a boulder, was Broom. He stood with his back toward her, and his face buried in his hands. He was apparently feeling ill and dazed.
The girl shrank back as if she had been struck, then for some moments she stood immovable, her startled gaze fixed upon the bowed figure. Instinctively she felt her danger. A stifled gasp escaped her and tremors shook her frame from head to foot. Yet she dare not turn back, for David would be waiting. She must go on, or he would come to look for her and discover Broom. She shuddered to think what might happen then, for the impetuous boy violently disliked the fellow and would not miss an opportunity of annoying him. Besides Broom had been drinking heavily. Sahanderry had communicated his suspicions to her and from what she could make out there seemed to be a great degree of truth in them. Therefore she must not leave David. Broom would be in a black humor after his drinking bout. She shuddered again. But this was no time for weakness. She would go on, she must. Firmly bracing her nerves, Kasba stepped lightly forward.
With bated breath she moved, step by step, toward the silent figure. Very slowly and stealthily she approached him.
The man continued to stand perfectly still, but as she drew nearer his motionless figure, she could scarcely restrain herself from crying aloud, so acute was her terror.
With a last effort, a strong, determined effort, she was beside him. The snow under her feet crunched to her imagination like the report of a gun. Her heart stood still, she felt discovery inevitable. With a mighty effort she strangled the cry in her throat.