thought of her. Life and Love were growing
distant though he loved her as few love and live. She would be removed
from want by him--there were the pearls and the money in the safe with
the money of the Church; there was the letter to the Cure, his last
testament, leaving all to her. He, sleeping, would fear no foe; she,
awake in the living world, would hold him in dear remembrance. Death
were the better thing for all. Then Kathleen in her happiness would
be at peace; and even Billy might go unmolested, for, who was there to
recognise Billy, now that Portugais was dead?

He heard the Cure's voice at the window--"Oh, my dear people, God has
given him to us at last. I go now to prepare him for his long journey,
to--"

Charley realised and shuddered. Receive the sacraments of the Church?
Be made ready by the priest for his going hence--end all the soul's
interrogations, with the solving of his own mortal problems? Say "I
believe," confess his sins, and, receiving absolution, lie down in
peace.

He suddenly raised himself on his elbow, flinging his body over. The
bandage of his wound was displaced, and blood gushed out upon the white
clothes of the bed. "Rosalie!" he gasped. "Rosalie, my love!
God keep..."

As he sank back he heard the priest's anguished voice above him, calling
for help. He smiled.

"Rosalie--" he whispered. The priest ran and unlocked the door, and
Rosalie entered, followed by the Seigneur and Mrs. Flynn.

"Quick! Quick!" said the priest. "The bandage slipped."

The bandage slipped--or was it slipped? Who knows!

Blind with agony, and as in a direful dream, Rosalie made her way to the
bed. The sight of his ensanguined body roused her, and, murmuring his
name--continually murmuring his name--she assisted Mrs. Flynn to bind
up the wound again. Standing where she stood when she had stayed Louis
Trudel's arm long ago, with an infinite tenderness she touched the
scar-the scar of the cross--on his breast. Terrible as was her grief,
her heart had its comfort in the thought--who could rob her of that for
ever?--that he would die a martyr. It did not matter now who knew the
story of her love. It could not do him harm. She was ready to proclaim
it to all the world. And those who watched knew that they were in the
presence of a great human love.

The priest made ready to receive the unconscious man into the Church.
Had Charley not said, "Tell them so?" Was it not now his duty to say the
sacred offices ove