When they arrived at the house, Dame Louisa left Dame Penny to hold the horse, and went in.  The outer door was not locked and she wandered quite at her will, through the great ice saloons, and wind-swept corridors.  When she came to the door with the icicle through the latch, she knew at once that the children were in that room, so she drew out the icicle and entered.  The children were asleep, but she aroused them, and bade them be very quiet and follow her.  They got out of the house without disturbing any of the family; but, once out, a new difficulty beset them.  The children had been so nearly warm under their snow-flake beds that they began to freeze the minute the icy air struck them.

But Dame Louisa promptly seized them, while Dame Penny held the horse, and put them into the tubs and pails of water.  Then she took hold of the horse’s head, and backed him and turned around carefully, and they started off at full speed.

But it was not long before they discovered that they were pursued.  They heard the hoarse voice of the Snow Man behind them calling to them to stop.

“What are you taking away my company for?” shouted the Snow Man.  “Stop, stop!”

The wind was at the back of the Snow Man, and he came with tremendous velocity.  It was evident that he would soon overtake the old white horse who was stiff and somewhat lame.  Dame Louisa whipped him up, but the Snow Man gained on them.  The icy breath of the Snow Man blew over them.  “Oh!” shrieked Dame Penny, “what shall we do, what shall we do?”

“Be quiet,” said Dame Louisa with dignity.  She untied her large poke-bonnet which was made of straw—­she was unable to have a velvet one for winter, now her Christmas-trees were dead—­and she hung it on the whip.  Then she drew a match from her pocket, and set fire to the bonnet.  The light fabric blazed up directly, and the Snow Man stopped short.  “If you come any nearer,” shrieked Dame Louisa, “I’ll put this right in your face and—­melt you!”

“Give me back my company,” shouted the Snow Man in a doubtful voice.

“You can’t have your company,” said Dame Louisa, shaking the blazing bonnet defiantly at him.

“To think of the days I’ve spent in their yards, slowly melting and suffering everything, and my not having one visit back,” grumbled the Snow Man.  But he stood still; he never took a step forward after Dame Louisa had set her bonnet on fire.

It was lucky Dame Louisa had worn a worsted scarf tied over her bonnet, and could now use it for a bonnet.

The cold was intense, and had it not been that Dame Penny and Dame Louisa both wore their Bay State shawls over their beaver sacques, and their stone-marten tippets and muffs, and blue worsted stockings drawn over their shoes, they would certainly have frozen.  As for the children, they would never have reached home alive if it had not been for the pails and tubs of water.

“Do you feel as if you were thawing?” Dame Louisa asked the children after they had left the Snow Man behind.