ns in those able hands--and then, when his old
friend knew everything, he, Henry, would meet him and bring him to the
Chateau of Heronac, and so to Sabine.

The Pere Anselme was quite willing to undertake this mission; he would
have returned to his breakfast by then and would await Michael's
arrival, he told Henry. Michael would come from the station, twenty
kilometers away, in Henry's motor.

The wind had got up, and a gloriously rough sea beat itself against the
rocks. The thundering surf seemed some comfort to Henry. He was
unconscious of the fact that he felt very much better than he had ever
imagined that he could feel after such a blow. Moravia's maneuvrings and
sweet sympathy had been most effective, and Henry had fallen asleep
while her spell was still upon him--and only awakened after several
hours of refreshing slumber. Then it was he decided upon the plan, which
he put into execution as soon as daylight came. Now he left the old
priest at the church door and strode away along the rough coast road,
battling with the wind and trying to conquer his thoughts.

He was following Moravia's advice, and replacing each one of pain as it
came with one of pleasure--and the cold air exhilarated his blood.

Michael, meanwhile, in the slow, unpleasant train, was a prey to anxiety
and speculation. What had happened? There was no clue in Henry's dry
words in the telegram. Had there been some disaster? Was Henry violently
angry with him? What would their meeting bring? He had come in to the
Ritz from a dinner party, and had got the telegram just in time to rush
straight to the station with a hastily-packed bag, and get into an
almost-moving train, and all night long he had wondered and wondered, as
he sat in the corner of his carriage. But whatever had happened was a
relief--it produced action. He had no longer just to try to kill time
and stifle thought; he could do something for good or ill.

It seemed as though he would never arrive, as the hours wore on and dawn
faded into daylight. Then, at last, the crawling engine drew up at his
destination, and he got out and recognized Henry's chauffeur waiting
for him on the platform. The swift rush through the cold air refreshed
him, and took away the fatigue of the long night--and soon they had
drawn up at the door of the _presbytere_, and he found himself being
shown by the priest's ancient housekeeper into the spotlessly clean
parlor.

The Pere Anselme joined him in a momen