my advice? I have
told you a secret to-night which never, since I came to Keewatin, have
I told to any man. And I have told you that I may save you. Believe
me, if you cannot love your daily companions for their own sake in
this world, whoever and wherever they are, you will fail to find love
for your own sake in the next--and to love well, whatever you love you
must love for itself, and not for any future and mercenary end."

Granger moved restlessly, but remained silent; then he sat still and
thought. Pere Antoine also said nothing, for he knew that the man
before him was reasoning his way toward a decision upon which all his
happiness must depend.

But to Granger the problem appeared quite otherwise; it seemed to him
that he was being asked to abandon another pleasantness for the sake
of Peggy, a half-breed girl, for whom he had been prepared already to
sacrifice his career. To be sure, his career was not of much value at
present, and didn't seem a large thing to sacrifice; but then, when it
comes to giving anything away, even the most thorough-paced pessimist
is capable of turning optimist about its worth.

Since he had become certain of Mordaunt's death, he had vaguely
planned out for himself a course of spiritual debauchery, though he
would not have applied to it such a word. He had expected to marry
Peggy Ericsen, and to live with the memory of the woman for whom he
had really cared. His wife was to have been the servant of his comfort
and desires, and the dead woman the companion of his mind and daily
round. So he hoped, by keeping Mordaunt near him in his thoughts, to
qualify himself for attaining her after death, and to atone for his
apostasy in marrying a different woman while yet on earth. Throughout
all his reasoning ran a streak of madness, of which he himself was
totally unaware. And now, when he had completed arrangements to his
own satisfaction, here came this Jesuit telling him that such a course
of action savoured of adultery, and would probably end in the eternal
separation of Mordaunt from himself.

Presently he heard a sound of moving. He looked up. Antoine was
standing before him, on the outer edge of the light which was thrown
by the lamp, appearing huge and prophetic against the background of
dwarfed shadows which crawled over wall and ceiling, crowding behind
him. His awe for the office of the man returned to him, blotting out
the equality which the past few hours of confession had brought