what had been told her. When she had finished, Pierre added:

"I am no coward, as you will witness; but as I said, neither gaol nor
death do I wish. Well, if they should come here, and you said, Pierre
is not here, even though I was in the next room, they would believe you,
and they would not search. Well, I ask such sanctuary."

The priest recoiled and raised his hand in protest. Then, after a
moment, he said:

"How do you deserve this? Do you know what you ask?"

"Ah, oui, I know it is immense, and I deserve nothing: and in return I
can offer nothing, not even that I will repent. And I have done no good
in the world; but still perhaps I am worth the saving, as may be seen
in the end. As for you, well, you will do a little wrong so that the end
will be right. So?"

The priest's eyes looked out long and sadly at the man from under his
venerable brows, as though he would see through him and beyond him to
that end; and at last he spoke in a low, firm voice:

"Pierre, you have been a bad man; but sometimes you have been generous,
and of a few good acts I know--"

"No, not good," the other interrupted. "I ask this of your charity."

"There is the law, and my conscience."

"The law! the law!" and there was sharp satire in the half-breed's
voice. "What has it done in the West? Think, 'mon pere!' Do you not know
a hundred cases where the law has dealt foully? There was more justice
before we had law. Law--" And he named over swiftly, scornfully, a score
of names and incidents, to which Father Corraine listened intently.
"But," said Pierre, gently, at last, "but for your conscience, m'sieu',
that is greater than law. For you are a good man and a wise man; and you
know that I shall pay my debts of every kind some sure day. That should
satisfy your justice, but you are merciful for the moment, and you will
spare until the time be come, until the corn is ripe in the ear. Why
should I plead? It is foolish. Still, it is my whim, of which, perhaps,
I shall be sorry tomorrow... Hark!" he added, and then shrugged his
shoulders and smiled. There were sounds of hoof beats coming faintly to
them. Father Corraine threw open the door of the other room of the hut,
and said "Go in there--Pierre. We shall see... we shall see."

The outlaw looked at the priest, as if hesitating; but, after, nodded
meaningly to himself, and entered the room and shut the door. The priest
stood listening. When the hoof-beats stopped, he opened the door