urn to Montreal and not come back here for years--if I can
help it. But look at the snow! It is coming faster and faster and
growing darker and darker. The wolf's throat is sunshine compared to
this. Shall we turn back?"

"No!" said the _cure_ with his sour face steadily turned toward her.
"I do not mind the snow nor shall you. I would drive so--like
this--beside you and looking at you, to the end of the world, of life.
Drive faster, faster yet, till we leave those others behind. Take that
opening there on your left. I know of a shelter that will
serve--Leduc's barn--you may remember it. Arrived there, you must hear
me."

Pauline, irritated though not greatly surprised, stooped, and making a
small hard ball of the wet snow lying thickly around their feet, flung
it backwards into the priest's face; he caught her left wrist, held it
in a tight grip, and although she was a strong woman, he was the
stronger, being a man, and she could not escape. The darkness closed
down upon them, the snow came down in blinding, tickling clouds, and in
her anger and distress she could not drive properly. Poussette's horse
being accustomed to being driven to the barn, went in that direction of
his own accord, and thus they arrived in a whirlwind of snow--the
priest still holding her wrist with something else than sourness
showing in his thin features--a few minutes before the hail commenced
falling. Pauline, dragging herself as she descended to the ground from
an over-zealous admirer, ran into the shelter and tried to fasten the
door, but the other, leaving Poussette's horse and _voiture_ to fare as
best they might, was quick upon her heels and followed her inside the
barn.

Thus they escaped the worst portion of the storm, but the darkness
endured; they remained standing looking at one another, and Pauline,
though she was both cold and frightened, managed to give her habitual
laugh.

"Because you are 'Father Rielle,'" she exclaimed, "you think you are
entitled to pursue a recreant sheep of the flock even over here! Oh!
it is not on account of the storm--I know that--that you follow me! I
have seen this coming for some time, and I have feared it!"

The priest staggered, passed his hands over his eyes and made a hasty
sign of the cross. Opportunity, propinquity, a sudden
temptation--these had assailed him and for one moment all the devils of
hell were let loose in this good man's brain and heart. The silence
seemed eter