er is not love. It is the passion that fills hell
with its worst. He laid his plans before he came. That letter, the
paper I read, M'sieur! He meant to see Josephine at once, and show it
to her. There are two of those papers: one at Thoreau's place and one
in Thoreau's pocket. If anything happens to Lang, one of them is to be
delivered to the master of Adare by Thoreau. If I had killed him it
would have gone to Le M'sieur. It is his safeguard. And there are two
copies--to make the thing sure. So we cannot kill him.

"Josephine listened to all this to-night, from Lang's own lips. And she
pleaded with him, M'sieur. She called upon him to think of the little
child, letting him believe that it was still alive; and he laughed at
her. And then, almost as I was ready to plunge my knife into his heart,
she threw up her head like an angel and told him to do his worst--that
she refused to pay the price. I never saw her stronger than in that
moment, M'sieur--in that moment when there was no hope! I would have
killed him then for the paper he had, but the other is at Thoreau's. He
has gone back there. He says that unless he receives word of
Josephine's surrender within a week--the crash will come, the paper
will be given to the master of Adare. And now, M'sieur Philip, what do
you have to say?"

"That there never was a game lost until it was played to the end,"
replied Philip, and he drew nearer to look straight and steadily into
the half-breed's eyes. "Go on, Jean. There is something more which you
have not told me. And that is the biggest thing of all. Go on!"

For a space there was a startled look in Jean's eyes. Then he shrugged
his shoulders and smiled.

"Of course there is more," he said. "You have known that, M'sieur.
There is one thing which you will never know--that which Josephine said
you would not guess if you lived a thousand years. You must forget that
there is more than I have told you, for it will do you no good to
remember."

Expectancy died out of Philip's eyes.

"And yet I believe that what you are holding back from me is the key to
everything."

"I have told you enough, M'sieur--enough to make you see why we must
fight."

"But not how."

"That will come soon," replied Jean, a little troubled.

The men were silent. Behind them they heard the restless movement of
the dogs. Out of the gloom came a wailing whine. Again Philip looked at
Jean.

"Do you know, your story seems weak in places, Jean," he sa