Well, all that fearful night the wind raged and howled with unabated violence, and it was probably owing to this, and to the rocking and tossing of his palace-upon-wheels, that Antony slept so long next morning, for when he flashed his electric light upon his watch, lo! he found it was nearly eight o'clock. He leapt out of bed and lit his lamp, and had just finished dressing when rat-tat-tat came to the back door. It was not until then that Antony noticed that the wind had gone down completely, the storm-spirit had spent its violence, and through the frozen panes of the skylight the beams of the rising sun were trying to struggle. So hard still was the frost that these panes of glass were not only covered by fern-fronds and flowers, but with powder.
'I thought, Mr Blake, it would be a pity to disturb you before.'
'Thank your kindness, Mary.'
'But breakfast is all ready, sir.'
'Well, ask Lotty to come in this morning and keep me company.'
He had, with his own hands, lit the stove half an hour ago, and the fire burned bright and clear in the frosty atmosphere.
'She will be delighted, I'm sure, but'——
'But what, Mary?'
'You'll have to carry her through the snow-wreaths.'
And when Antony looked out, lo and behold! he found that the 'Gipsy Queen' was embedded in a bank of snow as high as the steps themselves, and that a bank fully fourteen feet in height and shaped like a huge beach-comber separated the camp from the highway. A shovel and a spade were part of the caravan outfit, but this snow was far too powdery to be dug; so, enveloping himself in oilskin leggings and coat, Antony left Mary to put the caravan straight and lay the cloth, while he scrambled through to the back steps of the 'Silver Queen.' He found Lotty dressed as neatly and prettily as if she were going to be a Gipsy May-Queen. She gave him smiling welcome, and appeared quite delighted with this turn affairs had taken.