The rays of the lantern streamed out towards the snow, gilding a path up the whiteness, quickly lost into the dark.
“They need no shelter,” cried Calladine.
The hills were outside, waiting, and the stars, silent.
“Why linger?” cried Calladine to Clare and Lovel.
They faded into the night, noiseless and swift. Calladine ran out of the hut, he ran up and down, he cried “Clare! Clare!” and the hills answered him. He came back into the hut, where Olver, dancing, held the mirror up to his eyes. “Look! and you shall see them.” He dashed the mirror out of Olver’s hand; it smashed upon the ground. “You will never see them again, now,” cried Olver, “you will never see them again.”
Transcriber’s Note:
Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.