Maitre; it would even prevent him from abetting O'Shea, and he
supposed that that abetting would be necessary. Here was cause enough
for dejection--that the whole miserable progress of events which he
feared most should take place. And why? Because a woman held a glorious
faith which might turn out to be delusion, and because he, a man, had
not strength to believe for certain that it was a delusion.

It raised no flicker of renewed hope in Caius to meet O'Shea at the turn
of the shore where the boats of the seal fishery were drawn up. O'Shea
had a brisk look of energy that made it evident that he was still bent
upon accomplishing his design. He stopped in front of the lady's horse,
and said something to her which Caius did not hear.

"Have ye arranged that little picnic over to Prince Edward's," he called
to Caius.

Caius looked at Josephine. O'Shea's mere presence had put much of the
spiritual aspect of the case to flight, and he suddenly smarted under
the realization that he had never put the question to her since she had
known her danger--never put the request to her strongly at all.

"Come," said Josephine; "I am going home. I am going to send all my
girls to their own homes and get the house ready for my husband."

O'Shea, with imperturbable countenance, pushed off his hat and scratched
his head.

"I was thinking," he remarked casually, "that I'd jist send Mammy along
with ye to Prince Edward." (Mammy was what he always called his wife.)
"I am thinking he'll be real glad to see her, for she's a real
respectable woman."

"Who?" asked Josephine, puzzled.

"Prince Edward, that owns the island," said O'Shea. "And she's that down
in the mouth, it's no comfort for me to have her; and she can take the
baby and welcome. It's a fair sea." He looked to the south as he spoke.
"I'd risk both her and the brat on it; and Skipper Pierre is getting
ready to take the boat across the ice."

Caius saw that resolution had fled from Josephine. She too looked at the
calm blue southern sea, and agonized longing came into her eyes. It
seemed to Caius too cruel, too horribly cruel, that she should be
tortured by this temptation. Because he knew that to her it could be
nothing but temptation, he sat silent when O'Shea, seeing that the
lady's gaze was afar, signed to him for aid; and because he hoped that
she might yield he was silent, and did not come to rescue her from the
tormentor.

O'Shea gave him a look of undisguised scor