gs
come out. As ever,

TOM.

Stunned, Philip dropped the letter. He lifted his eyes, and a strange
cry burst from his lips. Nothing that Gregson had written could have
wrung that cry from him. It was Jeanne. She stood in the open door of
the tent. But it was not the Jeanne he had known. A terrible grief was
written in her face. Her lips were bloodless, her eyes lusterless; deep
suffering seemed to have put hollows in her cheeks. In a moment she had
fallen upon her knees beside him and clasped one of his hands in both
of her own.

"I am so glad," she whispered, chokingly.

For an instant she pressed his hands to her face.

"I am so glad--"

She rose to her feet, swaying slightly. She turned to the door, and
Philip could hear her sobbing as she left him.

XV

Not until the silken flap of the tent had fallen behind Jeanne did
power of movement and speech return to Philip. He called her name and
straggled to a sitting posture. Then he staggered to his feet. He could
scarcely stand. Shooting pains passed like flashes of electricity
through his body. His right arm was numb and stiff, and he found that
it was thickly bandaged. His head ached, his legs could hardly support
him. He went to raise his left hand to his head, but stopped it in
front of him, while a slow smile of understanding crept over his face.
It was swollen and covered with livid bruises. He wondered if his body
looked that way, and sank down exhausted upon his balsam bed. A minute
later Pierre returned with a cup of broth in his hand.

Philip looked at him with less feverish eyes now. There was an
unaccountable change in the half-breed's appearance, as there had been
in Jeanne's. His face seemed thinner. There was a deep gloom in his
eyes, a dejected droop to his shoulders. Philip accepted the broth, and
drank it slowly, without speaking. He felt strengthened. Then he looked
steadily at Pierre. The old pride had fallen from Pierre like a mask.
His eyes dropped under Philip's gaze.

Philip held up a hand.

"Pierre!"

The half-breed grasped it and waited. His lips tightened.

"What is the matter?" demanded Philip. "What has happened to Jeanne?
You say she was not hurt--"

"By the rocks, M'sieur," interrupted Pierre, quickly, kneeling beside
Philip. "Listen. It is best that I tell you. You are a man, you will
understand, without being told all. From Churchill I brought news which
it was necessary for me to tell Jeanne. It was terrible