to M'sieu' Hadrian before us all, 'M'sieu',
you are married.'

"Sapre! that P'tite Louison get pale like snow, and we all stan' roun'
her close and say to her quick, 'Courage, P'tite Louison!' M'sieu'
Hadrian then look at the priest and say: 'No, M'sieu', I was married ten
years ago; my wife drink and go wrong, and I get divorce. I am free like
the wind.'

"'You are not free,' the Cure say quick. 'Once married, married till
death. The Church cannot marry you again, and I command Louison to give
you up.'

"P'tite Louison stan' like stone. M'sieu' turn to her. 'What shall it
be, Louison?' he say. 'You will come with me?'

"'Kiss me, Charles,' she say, 'and tell me good-bye till--till you are
free.'

"He look like a madman. 'Kiss me once, Charles,' she say, 'and let me
go.'

"And he come to her and kiss her on the lips once, and he say, 'Louison,
come with me. I will never give you up.'

"She draw back to Florian. 'Good-bye, Charles,' she say. 'I will wait as
long as you will. Mother of God, how hard it is to do right!' she say,
and then she turn and leave the room.

"M'sieu' Hadrian, he give a long sigh. 'It was my one chance,' he say.
'Now the devil take it all!' Then he nod and say to the Cure: 'We'll
thrash this out at Judgment Day, M'sieu'. I'll meet you there--you and
the woman that spoiled me.'

"He turn to Florian and the rest of us, and shake hands, and say: 'Take
care of Louison. Thank you. Good-bye.' Then he start towards the door,
but stumble, for he look sick. 'Give me a drink,' he say, and begin to
cough a little--a queer sort of rattle. Florian give him big drink, and
he toss it off-whiff! 'Thank you,' he say, and start again, and we see
him walk away over the hill ver' slow--an' he never come back. But every
year there come from New York a box of flowers, and every year P'tite
Louison send him a 'Merci, Charles, mille fois. Dieu to garde.' It is so
every year for twenty-five year."

"Where is he now?" asked Medallion.

Isidore shook his head, then lifted his eyes religiously. "Waiting for
Judgment Day and P'tite Louison," he answered.

"Dead!" said Medallion.

"How long?"

"Twenty year."

"But the flowers--the flowers?"

"He left word for them to be sent just the same, and the money for it."

Medallion turned and took off his hat reverently, as if a soul were
passing from the world; but it was only P'tite Louison going out into
the garden.

"She thinks him living?" he asked gently