the set teeth.

"Stand back--give him air," she said, in a voice of authority to those
who crowded round.

People fell back in awe, for, amid tears and excitement and fear, this
girl had a strange convincing calm. By the time Charley's wound was
stopped, messengers were on the way to the Cure and the Seigneur.
By Rosalie's instructions the dead body of the robber was removed,
Charley's bed up-stairs was prepared for him, a fire was lighted, and
twenty hands were ready to do accurately her will. Now and again she
felt his pulse, and she watched his face intently. In her bitter sorrow
her heart had a sort of thankfulness, for his head was on her breast,
he was in her arms. It had been given her once more to come first to
his rescue, and with one wild cry, unheard by any one, to call out his
beloved name.

The world of Chaudiere, roused by the shooting, had then burst in upon
them; but that one moment had been hers, no matter what came after. She
had no illusions--she knew that the end was near: the end of all for him
and for them both.

The Cure entered and hurried forward. There was the seal of the parish
intact on the door of the safe, but at what cost!

"He has given his life for the church," he said, then commanded all to
leave, save those needed to carry the wounded man up-stairs.

Still it was Rosalie that directed the removal. She held his hand; she
saw that he was carefully laid down; she raised his head to a proper
height; she moistened his lips and fanned him. Meanwhile the Cure fell
upon his knees, and the noise of talk and whispering ceased in the
house.

But presently there was loud murmuring and shuffling of feet outside
again, and Rosalie left the room hurriedly and went below to stop it.
She met the men who were bringing the body of Jo Portugais into the
shop.

Up-stairs the Cure's voice prayed: "Of Thy mercy, O Lord, hear our
prayer. Grant that he be brought into Thy Church ere his last hour come.
Forgive, O Lord--"

Charley stirred and opened his eyes. He saw the Cure bowed in prayer; he
heard the trembling voice. He touched the white head with his hand.

CHAPTER LIX. IN WHICH CHARLEY MEETS A STRANGER

The Cure came to his feet with a joyful cry. "Monsieur--my son," he
said, bending over him.

"Is it all over?" Charley asked calmly, almost cheerfully. Death now was
the only solution of life's problems, and he welcomed it from the void.

The Cure went to the door and locked it. The