Mr.

"Benjamin
From that I knew that something had happened; for it is dear to Jarvis, that
picture of the girl,' said Suffer with a little quiver in her voice. With a quick gesture
Waring drew the picture from his pocket and threw it into the fire; it brazed, and
was gone in a moment. 'Then I went after you,' said Silver with a little look of
gratitude. 'I know the passage through the south channels, and something told me
you had gone that way. It was very cold' that was all, no reasoning, no excuse,
no embarrassment; the flight of the little sea-bird straight to its mate. Life flowed
on again in the old channel, Fog quiet, Silver happy, and Waring in a sort of
dream. Winter was foot upon them, and the castle beleaguered with his white
armies both below and above, on the water and in the air. The two men went
ashore on the ice now, and trapped and hunted daily, the dogs following. Fagots
were cut and rough roads made through the forest. One would have supposed
they were planning for a lifelong residence, the young man and the old, as they
came and went together, now on the snow-crust, now plunging through breast-
deep into the light dry mass. One day Waring said. 'Let me see your reckoning.
Do you know that to-morrow will be Christmas?' 'Silver knows nothing of
Christmas,' said Fog, roughly. 'Then she shall know,' replied Waring. Away he
went to the woods and brought back evergreen, In the night he checked the
cabin-like room, and with infinite pains constructed a little Christmas-tree and
hung it with everything he could collect or contrive, 'It is but a poor thing, after
all,'' he said, gloomily, as he stood alone surveying his work, it was indeed a shabby
little tree, only redeemed from ugliness by a white cross poised on the green
summit; this cross glittered and shone in the firelight,--'it was cut from solid ice.
'Perhaps I can help, you,' said old Fog's voice behind. 'I did not show you this, for
fear it would anger you, but--but there must have been a child on board after all. '
He held a little box of toys, carefully packed as if by a mother's hand,--common
toys, for she was only the captain's wife, and the schooner a small one; the little
waif had floated ashore by itself, and Fog had seen and hidden it. Waring said
nothing and the two men began to tie on the toys in silence. But after a while
they warmed to their work and grew eager to make it beautiful; the old red
ribbon that Orange had given was considered a precious treasure-trove, and.