But you have
won, M'sieur. Josephine loves you. I have faith in you. And do you know
why? It is because you have fought the fight of a strong man. It does
not take great soul in a man to match knife against knife, or bullet
against bullet. Not to keep one's word, to play a hopeless part in the
dark, to leap when the numma wapew is over the eyes and you are
blind--that takes a man. And now, when Jean Jacques Croisset says for
the first time that there is a ray of hope for you, where a few hours
ago no hope existed, will you give me again your promise to play the
part you have been asked to play?"

"Hope!" Philip was at Jean's side in an instant. "Jean, what do you
mean? Is it that you, even YOU--now give me hope of possessing
Josephine?"

Slowly Jean rose from his chair.

"I am part Cree, M'sieur," he said. "And in our Cree there is a saying
that the God of all things, Kisamunito, the Great Spirit, often sits on
high and laughs at the tricks which he plays on men. Perhaps this is
one of those times. I am beginning to believe so. Kisamunito has begun
to run our destinies, not ourselves. Yesterday we--our Josephine and
I--had our hopes, our plans, our schemes well laid. To-night they no
longer exist. Before the night is much older all that Josephine has
done, all that she has made you promise, will count for nothing. After
that--a matter of hours, perhaps of days--will come the great fight for
you and me. Until then you must know nothing, must see nothing, must
ask nothing. And when the crash comes--"

"It will give Josephine to me?" cried Philip eagerly.

"I did not say that, M'sieur," corrected Jean quietly. "Out of fighting
such as this strange things may happen. And where things happen there
is always hope. Is that not true?"

He moved to the door and listened. Quietly he opened it, and looked out.

"The hall is clear," he whispered softly. "Go to Josephine. Tell her
that she must arrange to see me within an hour. And if you care for
that bit of hope I have shown you, let it happen without the knowledge
of the master of Adare. From this hour Jean Jacques Croisset sacrifices
his soul. Make haste, M'sieur--and use caution!"

Without a word Philip went quietly out into the hall. Behind him Jean
closed and locked the door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

For a few moments Philip stood without moving. Jean's return and the
strange things he had said had worked like sharp wine in his blood. He
was breathing quickly.