LITMIR.BIZ

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now, there’s a conundrum,” he said, as Martha’s eyes grew wide.

      “Are we stuck here forever?”

      “Oh, no, don’t worry. I think it’s just frozen shut. The ice will melt in the spring and then we’ll be able to go outside.”

      For a moment her eyes betrayed the fact that she considered this a real possibility, but since her grandpa had teased her in this way often, her brow quickly wrinkled as she dismissed his assertion and considered other possibilities.

      “Oh! I wonder if the shed door will open,” she said.

      There was a woodshed off the kitchen, with a door leading to the outside. It had been in the lee of the storm and was not nearly as iced up. With a smart tug, Lewis was able to jerk it open. He was astonished at what he saw. Thick layers of ice coated every surface, and the weight of it had bent the trees over nearly to the ground. Many of the hardwoods had broken under the strain and there were downed trees and great branches littering the side street that ran past the hotel. The Donovan house, directly across the street from Lewis’s, had been damaged by one of these; a thick piece of oak had fallen or been blown onto the roof, and he could see a gaping hole where it had landed. Lewis stepped out into the yard — he would go and see if the Donovans needed help — but as soon as his foot hit the ground, it skidded out from underneath him and he had to brace himself against the side of the shed to keep from falling.

      “Are you all right?” Betsy called. Martha ran back into the kitchen to report that the ground was too slippery to walk on.

      “There’s been a lot of damage,” he told her as he went back in to collect his coat. “There’s one roof gone just from what I can see from the back door. I’d better go and see if I can help anywhere.”

      She nodded. “Yes, go. I’m much better. Just get me a cup of tea first, will you? And don’t fall and break anything, all right?”

      Lewis’s years on the road had been spent on horseback, not on foot, and he possessed no walking stick. He rummaged in the shed until he found a stout branch that had not yet been cut for kindling. It was about the right height, and he pounded three long nails at an angle through one end, so that the points protruded. This would give him a little extra purchase on the icy surface.

      As he stepped out the back door, he saw Mr. Donovan creeping gingerly to the front of his own house. He, too, had to come through his woodshed, but had the presence of mind to bring a heavy mallet with him.

      “The roof’s fallen on my boy,” he said in response to Lewis’s hail. “I’m just going for the doctor now. I don’t think there’s anything more to be done inside until the doctor comes, but would you see if you can get the front door open?” Lewis nodded and, with the aid of his homemade ice pick, slithered across the road and took the hammer from the man.

      “Here, take this,” he said and he handed Donovan the stick in exchange. “You’ll go faster.”

      It took ten minutes of beating at the Donovan’s door to loosen it, for the ice came away in bits and pieces instead of falling to the ground in a sheet. When he had finally cleared it enough to open it, he poked his head inside and called. Mrs. Donovan appeared at the top of the stairs.

      “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Lewis asked.

      “No, we just need the doctor. The boy has come to now, but he got an awful blow to the head. He was insensible for a terrible long time. I tell you, I thought he was dead when I first found him. I just hope he’s not addled as a result.”

      “I hope so, too,” Lewis replied. “I’m just going to free my own door now, and then I’ll be at the hotel if you need anything before your husband returns. Just yell across the street. I’ll tell my granddaughter to listen for you.”

      He set to work to open his own door with the borrowed mallet, and by the time he finished, Mr. Donovan had returned with the doctor. Lewis returned the mallet and retrieved his makeshift ice pick.

      The yard between his house and the back of the hotel was littered with icy branches and he judged that it was safer to make his way along the side of the street to the front door. Even so, the walking was treacherous, and the distance he had to travel was twice as long as it should have been. He had to pick his way around several large branches that partially blocked the road, and at the same time he was careful to stay well away from the eaves of the hotel. Every few minutes a long icicle would let go its tenuous hold and come crashing down, smashing on the ground with a shattering explosion.

      Daniel had just finished freeing the hotel’s doors when he arrived.

      “Have you ever seen anything like it,” he said in greeting.

      “No, and I pity anyone who was out in it. It’s too early for any kind of news, I suppose.”

      “Yes, people are only just getting out and about. We’ll just have to pray that no one’s been killed in this. I’m fine, for now. You go on and see what you can do.”

      Lewis made his way up one side of the street and down the other, but it appeared that the rest of Wellington had suffered only minor damage from the ice. Beyond a few torn roofs and smashed windows, all its buildings stood, and the only casualty reported so far was the Donovan boy. It would take many days, however, to clear away the mess.

      By the time Lewis returned to the hotel, the ice was softening underfoot, for in the wake of the storm the temperature had risen. The sun would wear a lot of it away by the end of the day, but in the meantime the water collecting on the ice surface promised to make the footing even more slippery.

      Lewis busied himself with the morning chores and was just sweeping out the kitchen when he heard the bell at the front door. Surprised at anyone venturing out on such a day, he went to see who it was. It was Mrs. Sprung, this time without her sister. He waved her up the stairs and shook his head at the notion of anyone venturing out on such an unnecessary errand when good sense dictated staying safely at home.

      “We used the last of the bread for breakfast, didn’t we?” Susannah said to him as he returned to the kitchen.

      “I wish I’d known sooner,” Lewis said. “I could have stopped at the bakery when I was out. I’ll go now, if you like.” He was a little annoyed at the prospect of having to make a second trip down the slippery street, but he supposed it was more interesting than sweeping.

      Susannah must have the heard the annoyance in his voice. “No, no, I’ll go now that the dishes are done,” she said. “There’s plenty of time before I have to start dinner.”

      Lewis finished tidying up the kitchen and swept both the stairs and the second-floor hall, and when he realized that Susannah had not come back yet, he returned to the kitchen and started to peel the potatoes for the noontime meal. There was still no sign of his sister by the time he’d started them boiling. Come to think of it, he had no idea where Daniel had got to either. He was beginning to notice that his brother-in-law seemed able to disappear for long stretches of time, but where he went and what he did were a mystery. It was nearly eleven o’clock, and soon the Elliotts and Mr. Gilmour would be descending the stairs in expectation of their dinner. Lewis needed to return home to check on Betsy, but he didn’t want to leave his sister to cook and serve at the same time.

      At last, the bell at the front door sounded and Lewis assumed it was the tardy Susannah. After a few moments, when she had not appeared in the kitchen, he went into the hall to discover that his sister had, indeed, returned, but not in a state he expected. She was being carried on a door by the baker and Mr. Scully, and her left leg was tied firmly down to it with a couple of belts.

      “Someone’s gone for the doctor,” Scully reported. “We thought it best to get her in out of the cold.”

      “I’m so sorry, Thaddeus.” Susannah smiled weakly. “One of those icicles came crashing down from a roof and I jumped to avoid it. Unfortunately, I jumped right onto a stretch of half-melted ice, and I went down hard.”

      It was obvious from the strange angle of her boot

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