I wish," she said, "that
we might do that. I should like it. I should like to be able to talk to
some one--about the things I like--and care for. I used to talk with my
father about things; but not lately. There is no one now." Her eyes
searched him. "Would it be possible, I wonder," said she. "Could we two
put everything else aside--forget altogether who we are and why we are
here. Is that possible?"

"We could only try, Mademoiselle," said Ste. Marie. "If we found it a
failure we could give it up." He broke into a little laugh. "And
besides," he said, "I can't help thinking that two people ought to be
with me all the time I am in the garden here--for safety's sake. I might
catch the old Michel napping one day, you know, throttle him, take his
rifle away, and escape. If there were two, I couldn't do it."

For an instant she met his laugh with an answering smile, and the smile
came upon her sombre beauty like a moment of golden light upon darkness.
But afterward she was grave again and thoughtful. "Is it not rather
foolish," she asked, "to warn us--to warn me of possibilities like that?
You might quite easily do what you have said. You are putting us on our
guard against you."

"I meant to, Mademoiselle," said Ste. Marie. "I meant to. Consider my
reasons. Consider what I was pleading for!" And he gave a little laugh
when the color began again to rise in the girl's cheeks.

She turned away from him, shaking her head, and he thought that he had
said too much and that she was offended, but after a moment the girl
looked up, and when she met his eyes she laughed outright.

"I cannot forever be scowling and snarling at you," said she. "It is
quite too absurd. Will you sit down for a little while? I don't know
whether or not my father would approve, but we have met here by
accident, and there can be no harm, surely, in our exchanging a few
civil words. If you try to bring up forbidden topics I can simply go
away; and, besides, Michel stands ready to murder you if it should
become necessary. I think his failure of a week ago is very heavy on his
conscience."

Ste. Marie sat down in one corner of the long stone bench, and he was
very glad to do it, for his leg was beginning to cause him some
discomfort. It felt hot and as if there were a very tight band round it
above the knee. The relief must have been apparent in his face, for
Mlle. O'Hara looked at him in silence for a moment, and she gave a
little, troubled, anxious