showed it closed as if with a white portcullis.  Kate remembered that the trail began to ascend beyond the arch, and knew that what she saw was only the mountain side she had partly climbed this morning.  But the snow had already crept down its flank, and the exit by trail was practically closed.  Breathlessly making her way back to the highest part of the plateau—­the cliff behind the house that here descended abruptly to the rain-dimmed valley—­she gazed at the dizzy depths in vain for some undiscovered or forgotten trail along its face.  But a single glance convinced her of its inaccessibility.  The gateway was indeed their only outlet to the plain below.  She looked back at the falling snow beyond until she fancied she could see in the crossing and recrossing lines the moving meshes of a fateful web woven around them by viewless but inexorable fingers.

Half frightened, she was turning away, when she perceived, a few paces distant, the figure of the stranger, “Ned,” also apparently absorbed in the gloomy prospect.  He was wrapped in the clinging folds of a black serape braided with silver; the broad flap of a slouch hat beaten back by the wind exposed the dark, glistening curls on his white forehead.  He was certainly very handsome and picturesque, and that apparently without effort or consciousness.  Neither was there anything in his costume or appearance inconsistent with his surroundings, or, even with what Kate could judge were his habits or position.  Nevertheless, she instantly decided that he was too handsome and too picturesque, without suspecting that her ideas of the limits of masculine beauty were merely personal experience.

As he turned away from the cliff they were brought face to face.  “It doesn’t look very encouraging over there,” he said quietly, as if the inevitableness of the situation had relieved him of his previous shyness and effort; “it’s even worse than I expected.  The snow must have begun there last night, and it looks as if it meant to stay.”  He stopped for a moment, and then, lifting his eyes to her, said:—­

“I suppose you know what this means?”

“I don’t understand you.”

“I thought not.  Well! it means that you are absolutely cut off here from any communication or intercourse with any one outside of that canyon.  By this time the snow is five feet deep over the only trail by which one can pass in and out of that gateway.  I am not alarming you, I hope, for there is no real physical danger; a place like this ought to be well garrisoned, and certainly is self-supporting so far as the mere necessities and even comforts are concerned.  You have wood, water, cattle, and game at your command, but for two weeks at least you are completely isolated.”

“For two weeks,” said Kate, growing pale—­“and my brother!”

“He knows all by this time, and is probably as assured as I am of the safety of his family.”

“For two weeks,” continued Kate; “impossible!  You don’t know my brother!  He will find some way to get to us.”