'Where is my mother? Lead me to her.'
'She is in the boat, Glory!' said Rebow. 'Come with me. The fire must burn itself out. There is nothing further to be done; we must put your mother at once under shelter. There is a cruel frost, and she will suffer.'
'Where is she? What have you done with her?' again asked Mehalah, still hardly collected and conscious of what she said.
'She is safe in my boat, well wrapped up. Come with me. You shall see her. Abraham and my man shall stay and watch till the fire dies out, and see that no further harm is done, and then follow in your boat.'
'Where are you going?'
'I am going to place your mother under cover, at once, or the cold will kill her. Come on, Glory!'
Elijah led the way down the steep gravelly slope to the Rhyn. There floated his boat—his large two-oared boat, and in the stern half lay, half crouched, Mrs. Sharland, amidst blankets and bedding.
'Joseph!' shouted Elijah to one of the men by the fire, 'follow us as soon as you can, and bring Abraham Dowsing with you. We will fetch away the traps to-morrow.'
Mrs. Sharland was wailing and wringing her hands.
'Oh Mehalah! this is dreadful! too dreadful!'