others are very good; mine is. You would like to be with her, I
know; you would have the calm of feeling taken care of, instead of
standing alone in the world."

He said all this without letting his tone betray that that
double-thoughted mind of his was telling him that this was doubtful,
that his mother might be slow to believe in Josephine, and that he was
not sure whether Josephine would be attracted by her.

Josephine looked at him with round-eyed surprise; then, apparently
conjecturing that the invitation was purely kind, purely stupid, she
thanked him, and declined it graciously.

"Is there no folly with which you would not easily credit me?" He smiled
faintly in his reproach. "Do you think I do not know what I am saying? I
have been awake all night thinking what I could do for you." For a
moment he looked at her helplessly, hoping that some hint of the truth
would come of itself; then, turning away his face, he said hoarsely: "Le
Maitre is on the Gaspe schooner. O'Shea has had the news. He is lying
drunk in his berth."

He did not turn until he heard a slight sound. Then he saw that she had
slipped down from her horse, perhaps because she was afraid of falling
from it. Her face was quite white; there was a drawn look of abject
terror upon it; but she only put her horse's rein in his hand, and
pointed to the mouth of the little valley.

"Let me be alone a little while," she whispered.

So Caius rode out upon the beach, leading her horse; and there he held
both restive animals as still as might be, and waited.

CHAPTER VIII.

"GOD'S IN HIS HEAVEN."

Caius wondered how long he ought to wait if she did not come out to him.
He wondered if she would die of misery there alone in the sand-dune, or
if she would go mad, and meet him in some fantastic humour, all the
intelligence scorched out of her poor brain by the cruel words he had
said. He had a notion that she had wanted to say her prayers, and,
although he did not believe in an answering Heaven, he did believe that
prayers would comfort her, and he hoped that that was why she asked to
be left.

When he thought of the terror in her eyes, he felt sanguine that she
would come with him. Now that he had seen her distress, it seemed to him
worse than any notion he had preconceived of it. It was right that she
should go with him. When she had once done that, he would stand between
her and this man always. That would be enough; if she should never care
f