iful and gracious--with such a light in his
eyes--and I thought--oh, I _thought_ we were so happy! And now--oh, God,
it breaks my heart--I _loved_ him!"

"Daughter----"

"May not the suffering of one atone for another's sin?" she questioned
feverishly.

"Nay--leave that thought, it is too heavy for thee: and not revealed to
men, that they may declare it."

"Pray for him, Father! Thou wilt pray for him--thou and all those who
come to thee. There will be many, many prayers and God will hear. For
his people loved him--none could stay from loving him, he was so
winsome. Mother of Mercies, thou wilt take my anguish for his
atonement!--_Oh I suffer!_"

The words came in a low moan, wrung from her unaware. Father Johannes
caught the small hands which she had flung out before her clenched, in
her passionate struggle for control, and with faltering motions of
unaccustomed gentleness, he soothed her until she had grown quieter and
he could unclasp them. Then he spoke strange words, out of a great
compassion:

"Christ knoweth; for He is Love--and He will save!"

"There is more," she gasped with her spent voice--"but I dare not name
it--the thought of it is torture. But it is not true; Madonna mia! it
_is not_ true!"

The strong man could bear no more; he groaned in spirit and ground his
hands against his breast--his lip curling with scorn at the pain of his
own torn flesh. "Tell it!" he commanded; "it _cannot_ be true."

She looked at him, hope dawning in her stricken face. "The words they
speak--they who are his enemies--that he had forsworn his faith: it is
not true."

"It is the very machination of the Evil One!" he thundered. "I know the
slander and the man who fathered it, for spite. And may Heaven forgive
its maker--for he hath need--standing high in the holy place of Earth. I
_know_ it is not true!"

He looked his faith into her eyes until he had banished her terror, and
she put out her wan hand, grateful, for his assurance.

Then he turned from her abruptly and wandered away to weigh her
question, looking into the depths of the great forest while he pondered
and prayed to be enlightened. He must have sight of his own solitudes if
he would keep his judgment free, and though she called to him, timidly,
thinking he had forgotten her, he made no answer, being not yet ready.
Surely, it could not be God's will that so fine a spirit should resign
her claim to their uneasy crown!

It was long before he returned t