e drew a handkerchief from his breast.

"Pardon!... Pardon!" he faintly cried in apology, and put it to his
mouth.

Then he fell backwards in the arms of Soldier Joe, who wiped a moisture
from the lifeless cheek as he laid the body on a bed.

In a corner of the stained handkerchief they found the word,

Blanche.

A SANCTUARY OF THE PLAINS

Father Corraine stood with his chin in his hand and one arm supporting
the other, thinking deeply. His eyes were fixed on the northern horizon,
along which the sun was casting oblique rays; for it was the beginning
of the winter season.

Where the prairie touched the sun it was responsive and radiant; but on
either side of this red and golden tapestry there was a tawny glow and
then a duskiness which, curving round to the north and east, became blue
and cold--an impalpable but perceptible barrier rising from the earth,
and shutting in Father Corraine like a prison wall. And this shadow
crept stealthily on and invaded the whole circle, until, where the
radiance had been, there was one continuous wall of gloom, rising are
upon are to invasion of the zenith, and pierced only by some intrusive
wandering stars.

And still the priest stood there looking, until the darkness closed down
on him with an almost tangible consistency. Then he appeared to remember
himself, and turned away with a gentle remonstrance of his head, and
entered the hut behind him. He lighted a lamp, looked at it doubtfully,
blew it out, set it aside, and lighted a candle. This he set in the one
window of the room which faced the north and west.

He went to a door opening into the only other room in the hut, and with
his hand on the latch looked thoughtfully and sorrowfully at something
in the corner of the room where he stood. He was evidently debating
upon some matter,--probably the removal of what was in the corner to the
other room. If so, he finally decided to abandon the intention. He sat
down in a chair, faced the candle, again dropped his chin upon his hand,
and kept his eyes musingly on the light. He was silent and motionless
a long time, then his lips moved, and he seemed to repeat something to
himself in whispers.

Presently he took a well-worn book from his pocket, and read aloud from
it softly what seemed to be an office of his Church. His voice grew
slightly louder as he continued, until, suddenly, there ran through the
words a deep sigh which did not come from himself. He raised his
head