uch a time had
come to Jessica. But she now learned, as we all must learn, that we live
our dark hour alone.

She listened as in a dream to the kindly bigot. When he had finished,
she knelt and received his blessing. All the time she wore that strange,
quiet smile. Soon afterwards he left her.

She went again to the window. "A papist and a Frenchman--unpardonable
sin!" she said into the distance. "Jessica, what a sinner art thou!"

Presently there was a tap, the door opened, and George Gering entered.
She turned to receive him, but there was no great lighting of the
face. He came quickly to her, and ran his arm round her waist. A great
kindness looked out of her eyes. Somehow she felt herself superior to
him--her love was less and her nature deeper. He pressed her fingers to
his lips. "Of what were you thinking, Jessica?" he asked.

"Of what a sinner I am," she answered, with a sad kind of humour.

"What a villain must I be, then!" he responded. "Well, yes," she said
musingly; "I think you are something of a villain, George."

"Well, well, you shall cure me of all mine iniquities," he said. "There
will be a lifetime for it. Come, let us to the garden."

"Wait," she said. "I told you that I was a sinner, George; I want to
tell you how."

"Tell me nothing; let us both go and repent," he rejoined, laughing, and
he hurried her away. She had lost her opportunity.

Next morning she was married. The day was glorious. The town was
garlanded, and there was not an English merchant or a Dutch burgher but
wore his holiday dress. The ceremony ended, a traveller came among the
crowd. He asked a hurried question or two and then edged away. Soon he
made a stand under the trees, and, viewing the scene, nodded his head
and said: "The abbe was right."

It was Perrot. A few hours afterwards the crowd had gone and the
governor's garden was empty. Perrot still kept his watch under the tree,
though why he could hardly say--his errand was useless now. But he had
the gift of waiting. At last he saw a figure issue from a door and go
down into the garden. He remembered the secret gate. He made a detour,
reached it, and entered. Jessica was walking up and down in the pines.
In an hour or so she was to leave for England. Her husband had gone
to the ship to do some needful things, and she had stolen out for a
moment's quiet. When Perrot faced her, she gave a little cry and started
back. But presently she recovered, smiled at him, and said