od behaviour and attention; so many cards, one
small book; so many small books, a prize at Christmas. I actually won
one prize. Can you imagine me gaining a Sunday School prize?"

Katrine regarded him thoughtfully with her deep blue eyes. The
slighting, almost contemptuous tone in which he spoke seemed to hurt her
more for his sake than for her own, as proving the invariable bitterness
of his mind. She was the only soul on board who had sought his
friendship, and even to her--

"Do you ever think--?" she stammered, confused and shy, yet possessed by
a gallant resolve to improve the occasion. "Do you ever remember the
things you heard?"

"Bible stories!" He laughed again, his harsh, unmirthful laugh. "My
good girl, is it possible to _forget_? They are too terribly true.
I've _seen_ them acted before my eyes. I've lived through them myself.
Heavens! how many of those old stories I've lived through! I've eaten
of the fruit of knowledge--a liberal repast, and as a result been turned
out of my Eden; I've wandered in far lands; I've defrauded my neighbour,
and sold my birthright for, not gold, not silver, not even a mess of
pottage--for a foaming poison which has killed body and soul! I've sung
my penitential psalms--and, _gone on sinning_! I've sung my Song of
Solomon, also, I must not forget that!"

He met Katrine's eyes, widely questioning, and replied with a defiant
flash. "You are astonished! You did not associate romance with such a
death's head of a man! Nevertheless it is true. There was a woman:
_one_ woman, only one! I worshipped her for five long years; I worship
her still, but all the same I did her to death. Oh, let me explain! It
was nothing actionable. I am not a prisoner fleeing from justice.
There is no escape from the court before which I shall be tried. I
would have killed myself a thousand times over sooner than have lifted a
hand against her. She was my wife, you see, and I loved her, but I
broke her heart. I believed that in the joy of her I could break loose
from the devil which possessed me. I _did_ go free for a few months,
and she married me, poor child! knowing nothing. Then, _He_ came back,
mightier than before. The first time she saw me--I may live through a
thousand hells, and know nothing more awful than the memory of those
eyes! She told me herself, weeping in my arms the next day, that she
could not love, she could not even endure, `_that man_!' If he came
back-