who love Him,' he replied.

'An' Michael too?' she asked, her eyes searching his face, 'An' Michael
too?'

But Craig only replied: 'All who love Him.'

'Ah, Michael, you must pray le bon Jesu. He's garde notre mignon.' And
then she bent over the babe, whispering--

'Ah, mon cheri, mon amour, adieu! adieu! mon ange!' till Slavin put
his arms about her and took her away, for as she was whispering her
farewells, her baby, with a little answering sigh, passed into the House
with many rooms.

'Whisht, Annette darlin'; don't cry for the baby,' said her husband.
'Shure it's better off than the rest av us, it is. An' didn't ye hear
what the minister said about the beautiful place it is? An' shure he
wouldn't lie to us at all.' But a mother cannot be comforted for her
first-born son.

An hour later Nixon brought Father Goulet. He was a little Frenchman
with gentle manners and the face of a saint. Craig welcomed him warmly,
and told him what he had done.

'That is good, my brother,' he said, with gentle courtesy, and, turning
to the mother, 'Your little one is safe.'

Behind Father Goulet came Nixon softly, and gazed down upon the little
quiet face, beautiful with the magic of death. Slavin came quietly and
stood beside him. Nixon turned and offered his hand. But Slavin said,
moving slowly back--

'I did ye a wrong, Nixon, an' it's a sorry man I am this day for it.'

'Don't say a word, Slavin,' answered Nixon, hurriedly. 'I know how you
feel. I've got a baby too. I want to see it again. That's why the break
hurt me so.'

'As God's above,' replied Slavin earnestly, 'I'll hinder ye no more.'
They shook hands, and we passed out.

We laid the baby under the pines, not far from Billy Breen, and the
sweet spring wind blew through the Gap, and came softly down the valley,
whispering to the pines and the grass and the hiding flowers of the New
Life coming to the world. And the mother must have heard the whisper in
her heart, for, as the Priest was saying the words of the Service, she
stood with Mrs. Mavor's arms about her, and her eyes were looking far
away beyond the purple mountain-tops, seeing what made her smile. And
Slavin, too, looked different. His very features seemed finer. The
coarseness was gone out of his face. What had come to him I could not
tell.

But when the doctor came into Slavin's house that night it was the old
Slavin I saw, but with a look of such deadly fury on his face that I
tried to get the do