gs," she went on in agitated, rapid tones, "and
then I have seemed to remember everything. But when I wake I have
forgotten, and it is because I know that I must forget. Paul, I dream
of a dead man, and men who hate and are following us. Was
there--ever--a dead man, Paul?" she asked, shuddering.

"No, dear Jacqueline," I answered stoutly. "Those dreams are lies."

She still looked hopelessly at me, and I knew she was not quite
convinced.

"Oh, it was not true, Paul?" she asked pleadingly, gathering each word
upon each indrawn breath.

I placed one arm around her.

"Jacqueline, there never was any dead man," I said. "It is not true.
Some day I will tell you everything--some day----"

I broke off helplessly, for my voice failed me, I was so shaken. I
knew that at last I was conquered by the passion that possessed me,
long repressed, but not less strong for its repression. I caught her
in my arms.

"I love you, Jacqueline!" I cried. "And you--you?"

She thrust her hands out and turned her face away. There was an awful
fear upon it. "Paul," she cried, "there is--somebody--who----

"I have known that," she went on in a torrent of wild words. "I have
known that always, and it is the most terrible part of all!"

I laid a finger on her lips.

"There is nobody, Jacqueline," I said again, trying to control my
trembling voice. "He was another delirium of the night, a fantom of
your illness, dear. There was never anybody but me, and there shall
never be. For to-morrow we shall turn back toward St. Boniface again,
and we shall take the boat for Quebec--and from there I shall take you
to a land where there shall be no more grief, neither----"

I broke off suddenly. What had I said? My words--why, the devil had
been quoting Scripture again! The bathos of it! My sacred task
forgotten and honour thrown to the winds, and Jacqueline helpless
there! I hung my head in misery and shame.

But very sweetly she raised hers and spoke to me.

"Paul, dear, if there never was anyone--if it is nothing but a
dream----" Here she looked at me with doubtful scrutiny in her eyes,
and then hastened to make amends for doubting me. "Of course, Paul, if
there had been you could not have known. But though I know my heart is
free--if there was nobody--why, let us go forward to my father's home,
because there will be no cause there to separate us, my dear. So let
us go on."

"Yes, let us go on," I muttered dully.

But