Read Online Lady of the Ice by James De Mille - Free Book Online

the grinding and roaring of the ice had increased; the long ridge had heaped itself up to a greater height, and opposite us it towered up in formidable masses.
    I thought at one time of intrusting myself with my companion to the sleigh, in the hope of using it as a boat to gain the shore. But I could not believe that it would float with both of us, and, if it would, there were no means of moving or guiding it. Better to remain on the ice than to attempt that. Such a refuge would only do as a last resort. After giving up this idea, I watched to see if there was any chance of drifting back to the shore, but soon saw that there was none. Every moment drew us farther off. Then I thought of a score of desperate undertakings, but all of them were given up almost as soon as they suggested themselves.
    All this time the lady had sat in silence — deathly pale, looking around with that same anguish of fear which I had noticed from the first, like one who awaits an inevitable doom. The storm beat about her pitilessly, occasional shudders passed through her, and the dread scene around affected me far less than those eyes of agony, that pallid face, and those tremulous white lips that seemed to murmur prayers. She saw, as well as I, the widening sheet of water between us and the shore on the one side, and on the other the ever-increasing masses of crumbling ice.
    At last I suddenly offered to go to Quebec, and bring back help for her. So wild a proposal was in the highest degree impracticable; but I thought that it might lead her to suggest some thing. As soon as she heard it, she evinced fresh terror.
    â€œOh, sir!” she moaned, “if you have a human heart, do not leave me! For God’s sake, stay a little longer.”
    â€œLeave you!” I cried, “never while I have breath. I will stay with you to the last.”
    But this, instead of reassuring her, merely had the effect of changing her feelings. She grew calmer.
    â€œNo,” said she, “you must not. I was mad with fear. No — go. You at least can save yourself. Go — fly — leave me!”
    â€œNever!” I repeated. “I only made that proposal — not thinking to save you, but merely supposing that you would feel better at the simple suggestion of some thing.”
    â€œI implore you,” she reiterated. “Go — there is yet time. You only risk your life by delay. Don’t waste your time on me.”
    â€œI could not go if I would,” I said, “and I swear I would not go if I could,” I cried, impetuously. “I hope you do not take me for any thing else than a gentleman.”
    â€œOh, sir, pardon me. Can you think that? — But you have already risked your life once by waiting to save mine — and, oh, do not risk it by waiting again.”
    â€œMadame,” said I, “you must not only not say such a thing, but you must not even think it. I am here with you, and, being a gentleman, I am here by your side either for life or death. But come — rouse yourself. Don’t give up. I’ll save you, or die with you. At the same time, let me assure you that I haven’t the remotest idea of dying.”
    She threw at me, from her eloquent eyes, a look of unutterable gratitude, and said not a word.
    I looked at my watch. It was three o’clock. There was no time to lose. The day was passing swiftly, and at this rate evening would come on before one might be aware. The thought of standing idle any longer, while the precious hours were passing, was intolerable. Once more I made a hasty survey, and now, pressed and stimulated by the dire exigencies of the hour, I determined to make an effort toward the Quebec side. On that side, it seemed as though the ice which drifted from the other shore was being packed in an unbroken mass. If so, a way over it might be found to a resolute spirit.
    I hastily told my companion my plan. She listened with a faint smile.
    â€œI will do all that