"An' how much farther be you going? Clean through to the coast?"
"By Jehupitee Cripes! If that don't beat all! I must tell my woman. Won't the _Bumble Bee_ make a fortin'?"
Latimer clapped his knee in high glee. Then he turned to shuffle down to the boat to tell his better half the good news.
"Stay!" called Sir George, and, turning to Harold, he continued: "You and your wife had better go with Mr. Latimer and see what accommodation he has to offer. It might save time."
So, accompanied by Bond, they followed the man in single file down the footpath through the snow. A steep but straight decline led to the level of the frozen lake. About twenty yards from the shore lay the _Bumble Bee_. It was a small craft with two masts and about nine feet beam. The gunwale stood several feet above the ice, and beside the little midship cabin the whole of the poop had been boarded in by a railing. A pile of wood lay beside the boat, and as Helen stepped across the little gangway, she noticed that the foredeck was cleanly swept.
With arms akimbo, a middle-aged, stern-faced woman stood in the narrow doorway, but her thick homespun dress and general air of tidiness and thrift gave confidence to her visitor, notwithstanding the puzzled look of inquiry with which she returned Helen's salutation.
"These people want to know eff we'll tak' in boarders?" said Latimer, by way of introduction. "What say you, Meg?"
"He means," said Harold, "that we are stranded, and would like you, if possible, to accommodate this lady and two or three other women until we can build our own quarters."
For a moment or two the woman looked straight into Helen's frank and kindly eyes. Then her hard expression softened, and a smile lit up her face as she accepted Helen's hand.
"I guess I can," was her answer. "It ain't much, but such as I have she's welcome to. About t'other women I don't know, for I haven't seen 'em yet."
"Step right in, marm; the coop is warm if it is little, and there's a chair you can sit down in," pointing to a little rocker which Latimer had made for her. "It's kinder comfortable."
"I'm sure it is," said Helen, and slowly she rocked herself to and fro, while she listened to the talk of the woman.
She felt strangely attracted by her. Some old memory link of the past was aroused. Had she seen that face before, and if so, when and where? While talking and asking questions Helen's mind was in an analytical mood, dissecting, so far as she could, everything associated with her appearance and life. Who was she? Where had she seen her? Was it possible that their lives had ever touched each other--this woman, double her own age and of different station? Yes, there was a link somewhere. Of this she felt sure. She must solve the mystery, but not now. To find a spot to rest in was enough for the present.