she added smiling, and, eagerly
answering the look in his eyes, threw her arms round his neck. In that
moment's joy a fresh realisation of their fate came upon him with dire
force, and a bitter protest went up from his heart, that he and she
should be sacrificed.

Yet the impasse was there, and what could remove it--what clear the way?

He looked down at the girl whose head was buried in happy peace on his
shoulder. She clung to him, as though in him was everlasting
protection from the sprite that kept whispering: "You dare not go to
confession--your dreams are done--you can only love." But she had no
fear now.

As he looked down at her a swift change passed over him, and, almost for
the first time since he was a little child, his eyes filled with tears.
He hastily brushed them away, and drew her down on the seat beside him.
He was wondering how he should tell her that they must not meet like
this, that they must be apart. No matter what had happened, no matter
what love there was, it was better that they should die--that he should
die--than that they should meet like this. There was only one end to
secret meetings, and discovery was inevitable. Then, with discovery,
shame to her. For he must either marry her--how could he marry her?--or
die. For him to die would but increase her misery.

The time had passed when it could be of any use. It passed that day in
the hut on Vadrome Mountain when she said that if he died, she would die
with him--"Where you are going you will be alone. There will be no one
to care for you, no one but me." Last night it passed for ever. She had
put her life into his hands; henceforth, there could never be a
question of giving or taking, of withdrawing or advancing, for all was
irrevocable, sealed with the great seal. Yet she must be saved. But how?

She suddenly looked up at him. "I can ask you anything I want now, can't
I?" she said.

"Anything, Rosalie."

"You know that when I ask, it is because I want to know what you know,
so that I may feel as you feel. You know that, don't you?

"I know it when you tell me, wonderful Rosalie." What a revelation it
was, this transmuting power, which could change mortal dross into the
coin of immortal wealth!

"I want to ask you," she said, "who was Kathleen?" His blood seemed
to go cold in his veins, and he sat without answering, shocked and
dismayed. What could she know of Kathleen?

"Can't you tell me?" she asked anxiously yet fearfully. He