Alison smiled, but her smile was brave rather than humorous.
“There’s no use in pretending, Kit. Suppose the train starts before Austin finds out we are not at the bridge?”
“Then Bob will put a trolley on the line and the boys will shove her along. We are not yet beaten, and we were up against it another time. Let’s imagine we are back again at the Winnipeg waiting-room—pilgrims and strangers, fronting all dangers.”
“Ah!” said Alison, “Carrie and Bob helped us at the waiting-room.”
Kit touched the stove. The fire was very low and the iron got cold. He awkwardly pulled out his watch.
“Bob is starting to help us at the bridge. Don’t you see him loading up blankets and sending for his best men? Old Bob is not the sort to let a pal freeze, and a Canadian doesn’t stop for snow!”
For a time they were silent. The blizzard beat the walls and the stove got cold. Then Alison said in a quiet voice:
“The train has gone down the line, but I’m not very much afraid. At Winnipeg I was afraid. You see, I knew I must go alone.... The snow is getting deep, and I daresay it blocks the track....”
Kit saw he had not persuaded her help would arrive. Well, for as long as possible, she must not freeze, and he took her in his arms. The coat would now go round both and Alison did not push him back.
“If you hadn’t bothered about seeing me, you would have been on board the train,” he said.