CHAPTER 19

Anxious Waiting The storm which overcame Sergeant North, and wound its mystic winding-sheet over the land, enshrouded the little brush lean-to which Constable Rolfe had erected for Marion Brisbane. It was merely a rough makeshift affair, and yet it served its purpose. It was sheltered from the fierce wind by the big trees, and through their great outstretched branches the snow sifted gently down. A generous fire radiated its warmth and cheer, and the leaping flames melted and dissolved the falling flakes. Rolfe…