“Mr. Ferrars has gone to get into dry clothes, and then he will see about putting poor Father to bed,” Mrs. Burton explained.  Then she burst into agitated thanksgiving:  “Oh, Katherine, how fortunate that you brought him home with you, and how wonderful it is that there is always someone to help when most it is heeded!  Whatever should we have done to-day if we had had no one but the fisher people to help us?”

Katherine was silent, and before the eyes of her mind there arose the picture of that moment before the two big fragments of ice collided, the moment which enabled Jervis Ferrars and herself to get into the boat.  But for that pause in the destruction of the ice island it was more than probable that neither she nor the stranger would have been there at all.  Of this she said nothing.  Nellie had quite enough to bear without being frightened by tragedies which had not happened.

“I am afraid we brought you in a fearful lot of water,” Katherine said.

“It will soon be wiped up, and the floor none the worse.  That poor Mr. Ferrars had no boots or stockings on; his feet were merely swathed in towels.  I have sent Miles with warm water to help him put them comfortable; and now there is someone in the store.  Dear, can you go?  I don’t know where Phil is.”

“I will go.  But what about Father?” Katherine asked, lingering.

“You can do nothing for him, and he is as comfortable as it is possible to make him at present,” Mrs. Burton replied.  Then Katherine hurried away, for business must be attended to whatever disasters menaced the family peace and happiness.

The customer was a man from one of the fishing boats, which was preparing to leave the river directly the barrier of ice at the mouth gave way.  He wanted more stores than could be immediately supplied, and promised to come back for them later.

“I saw you’d got the Englishman in your boat when you came up river; I thought he looked pretty sick,” remarked the fisher, who was a Yankee from Long Island Sound.

“His feet are bad, which is not wonderful when one remembers his journey from Maxokama,” Katherine answered, wishing that the man would go, so that she might go back to her father.

But this he seemed in no hurry to do, and with a cautious look round to make sure no one was within earshot, he leaned over the counter and asked in a confidential tone:  “Can you keep a secret, Miss?”

“I think so, but I am not very fond of them,” she answered, drawing back with a repressive air, for the man’s manner was more familiar than she cared for.

“Well, it’s this then; the Englishman is likely to go on getting sicker still if he keeps lodging at Oily Dave’s hotel.  Do you twig my meaning?”

“No, certainly not,” Katherine answered; then a shiver crept over her, because of the sinister interpretation which might be put to the words.

“I don’t want to be hauled up in a libel case,” said the Yankee.  “Are there any witnesses within hearing?”