it."

"We will hope not, M'sieu."

"If they should, Father,--well, it is hard to know just what to do."

"You were thinking--?"

"Oh, I was wondering. If they come here, and let their wild talk run
away with them, it might be well to fight them off until morning.
Maybe we could do it."

"Yes, it might seem best."

"But if--if the Big Throat should not come, or should have changed,
then it would have been better that I had submitted."

"You are thinking of me, my son. You must not. I will not leave you to
go without a struggle. I can fight, if needs be, as well as you. I
will do my part."

"It is not that, Father. But if we fight, and the Big Throat does not
come,--there is the maid. They would not spare her then."

The priest looked at the Captain, and in the dim, uncertain light he
saw something of the thought that lay behind those wearied eyes.

"True," he said; "true."

Menard walked up and down, a half-dozen steps forward, a half-dozen
back, without a glance at the priest, who watched him closely.
Suddenly he turned, and the words that were in his mind slipped
unguarded from his tongue, low and stern:--

"If they come, Father,--if they harm her,--God! if they even wake her,
I will kill them."

Father Claude looked at him, but said nothing. They walked together up
and down; then, as if weary, they sat again by the door.

"There are some things which I could not talk over with you," said the
priest, finally. "It was best that I should not. And now I hardly know
what is the right thing for me to do, or to say."

"What troubles you?"

"When you are cooler, it will come to you. For to-night,--until our
last moment of choice,--I must ask one favour, M'sieu. You will not
decide on this course until it comes to the end. You will think of
other ways; you will--"

"What else have I been doing, Father? There is no other way."

"But you will not decide yet?"

"No. We need not, to-night."

The priest seemed relieved.

"M'sieu," came in a low voice from the darkness within the hut, "may I
not sit with you?"

"You are awake, Mademoiselle? You have not been sleeping?"

"No, I could not. I--I have not heard you, M'sieu,--I have not
listened. But I wanted to very much. I have only my thoughts, and they
are not the best of company to-night."

"Come." Menard rose and got one of the priest's blankets, folding it
and laying it on the ground against the wall. "I fear that we may be
no better than the thou