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

for it indicated a close packing in this direction, and less danger of open water, which was the only thing now to be feared. The hope of reaching the shore was now strong within me. That shore, I could perceive, must be some distance below Quebec; but how far I could not tell. I could see the dark outline of the land, but Quebec was now no longer perceptible through the thick storm of sleet.
    For a long time, my companion held out nobly, and sustained the rapid progress which I was trying to keep up; but, at length, she began to show evident signs of exhaustion. I saw this with pain, for I was fearful every moment of some new circumstance which might call for fresh exertion from both of us. I would have given any thing to have had the sleigh which we were forced to relinquish. I feared that her strength would fail at the trying moment. The distance before us was yet so great that we seemed to have traversed but little. I insisted on her taking my arm and leaning on me for support, and tried to cheer her by making her look back and see how far we had gone. She tried to smile; but the smile was a failure. In her weakness, she began to feel more sensibly the storm from which she had been sheltered to some extent before she left the sleigh. She cowered under the fierce pelt of the pitiless sleet, and clung to me, trembling and shivering with cold.
    On and on we walked. The distance seemed interminable. The lady kept up well, considering her increasing exhaustion, saying nothing whatever; but her quick, short breathing was audible, as she panted with fatigue. I felt every shudder that ran through her delicate frame. And yet I did not dare to stop and give her rest; for, aside from the imminent danger of losing our hope of reaching land, a delay, even to take breath, would only expose her the more surely to the effect of the cold. At last, I stopped for a moment, and drew off my overcoat. This, in spite of her protestations, I forced her to put on. She threatened, at one time, to sit down on the ice and die, rather than do it.
    â€œVery well, madame,” said I. “Then, out of a punctilio, you will destroy not only yourself, but me. Do I deserve this?”
    At this, tears started to her eyes. She submitted.
    â€œOh, sir,” she murmured, “what can I say? It’s for your sake that I refuse. I will submit. God bless you — who sent you to my help! God forever bless you!”
    I said nothing.
    On and on!
    Then her steps grew feebler — then her weight rested on me more heavily.
    On and on!
    She staggered, and low moans succeeded to her heavy panting. At last, with a cry of despair, she fell forward.
    I caught her in my arms, and held her up.
    â€œLeave me!” she said, in a faint voice, “I cannot walk any farther.”
    â€œNo; I will wait for a while.”
    â€œOh, leave me! Save yourself! Or go ashore, and bring help!”
    â€œNo; I will go ashore with you, or not at all.”
    She sighed, and clung to me. After a time, she revived a little, and insisted on going onward. This time she walked for some distance. She did this with a stolid, heavy step, and mechanically, like an automaton moved by machinery. Then she stopped again.
    â€œI am dizzy,” said she, faintly.
    I made her sit down on the ice, and put myself between her and the wind. That rest did much for her. But I was afraid to let her sit more than five minutes. Her feet were saturated, and, in spite of my overcoat, she was still shivering.
    â€œCome,” said I; “if we stay any longer, you will die.”
    She staggered up. She clung to me, and I dragged her on. Then, again, she stopped.
    I now tried a last resort, and gave her some brandy from my flask. I had thought of it often, but did not wish to give this until other things were exhausted; for, though the stimulus is an immediate remedy for weakness, yet on the ice and in the snow the reaction is dangerous to the last degree. The draught revived her