She took a long look about the room, then came out. From the top of the cabin, which projected only a foot or so from the bluff, and suspended from a whittled branch not quite weather-worn, hung a silver cross, fully eight inches high, with a wondrously moulded figure of the Christ stretched upon it.
Robert's eyes followed hers, and for a few minutes neither spoke. "That's what we saw," she murmured, in a low tone; "that's the light that led us here—the sun upon the cross!"
"Come," said Robert, firmly, taking her by the arm.
Reluctantly she let him lead her away, and they turned south, keeping close to the lake shore, but out of the sand.
"Who lives there?" she asked.
"Why, I don't know—how should I?"
"It was neat inside, and there was blue clay and chips in the cracks, just as there is at home. There was a fireplace, too, but I didn't see any chimney."
"There was a chimney, though, of some dark-coloured stone. It looked like a stump on the bluff. I noticed it while you were inside."
"There's no dark-coloured stone around here."
"Then it must have been limestone darkened with mud. I didn't get near enough to see."