who was her good friend. Years passed; she was
nearing womanhood, the young man was still her friend, but in his mind
there had come something deeper. A young stranger also came, handsome,
brave, and brilliant. He was such a man as any girl could like and any
man admire. The girl liked him, and she admired him. The two young men
quarreled; they fought; and the girl parted them. Again they would have
fought, but this time the girl's 'life was in danger. The stranger was
wounded in saving her. She owed him a debt--such a debt as only a woman
can feel; because a woman loves a noble deed more than she loves her
life--a good woman."

She paused, and for an instant something shook in her throat. Her
husband looked at her with a deep wonder. And although Iberville's eyes
played with his glass of wine, they were fascinated by her face, and his
ear was strangely charmed by her voice.

"Will you go on?" he said.

"The three parted. The girl never forgot the stranger. What might have
happened if he had always been near her, who can tell--who can
tell? Again in later years the two men met, the stranger the
aggressor--without due cause."

"Pardon me, madame, the deepest cause," said Iberville meaningly.

She pretended not to understand, and continued: "The girl, believing
that what she was expected to do would be best for her, promised her
hand in marriage. At this time the stranger came. She saw him but for a
day, for an hour, then he passed away. Time went on again, and the two
men met in battle--men now, not boys; once more the stranger was the
victor. She married the defeated man. Perhaps she did not love him as
much as he loved her, but she knew that the other love, the love of the
stranger, was impossible--impossible. She came to care for her
husband more and more--she came to love him. She might have loved the
stranger--who can tell? But a woman's heart cannot be seized as a ship
or a town. Believe me, monsieur, I speak the truth. Years again passed:
her husband's life was in the stranger's hand. Through great danger she
travelled to plead for her husband's life. Monsieur, she does not plead
for an unworthy cause. She pleads for justice, in the name of honourable
warfare, for the sake of all good manhood. Will--will you refuse her?"

She paused. Gering's eyes were glistening. Her honesty, fine eloquence,
and simple sincerity, showed her to him in a new, strong light. Upon
Iberville, the greater of the two, it had a grea