re was a great fuss in the church, and the Cure said ugly
things, and I left and came home quick. And now--"

"Well, and now?" Ferrol interrupted.

"Well, now we'll have to do something."

"You mean, to go away?" he asked, with a little shrug of his shoulder.
She nodded her head.

He was depressed: he had had a hemorrhage that morning, and the road
seemed to close in on him on all sides.

"How are we to live?" he asked, with a pitiful sort of smile.

She looked up at him steadily for a moment, without speaking. He did not
understand the look in her eyes, until she said:

"You have that five thousand dollars!"

He drew back a step from her, and met her unwavering look a little
fearfully. She knew that--she--! "When did you find it out?" he asked.

"The morning we were married," she replied.

"And you--you, Christine, you married me, a thief!" She nodded again.

"What difference could it make?" she asked. "I wouldn't have been happy
if I hadn't married you. And I loved you!"

"Look here, Christine," he said, "that five thousand dollars is not for
you or for me. You will be safe enough if anything should happen to me;
your people would look after you, and you have some money in your own
right. But I've a sister, and she's lame. She never had to do a stroke
of work in her life, and she can't do it now. I have shared with her
anything I have had since times went wrong with us and our family. I
needed money badly enough, but I didn't care very much whether I got it
for myself or not--only for her. I wanted that five thousand dollars for
her, and to her it shall go; not one penny to you, or to me, or to
any other human being. The Rebellion is over: that money wouldn't have
altered things one way or another. It's mine, and if anything happens to
me--"

He suddenly stooped down and caught her hands, looking her in the eyes
steadily.

"Christine," he said, "I want you never to ask me to spend a penny of
that money; and I want you to promise me, by the name of the Virgin
Mary, that you'll see my sister gets it, and that you'll never let her
or any one else know where it came from. Come, Christine, will you do it
for me? I know it's very little indeed I give you, and you're giving me
everything; but some people are born to be debtors in this world, and
some to be creditors, and some give all and get little, because--"

She interrupted him.

"Because they love as I love you," she said, throwing her arms round his