when the issue came I knew that I would let no man stand between us.

"And some day I am going to tell you everything I know, and you shall
tell me," she said. "But to-night we have each other, and will not
think of unhappy things--nor ever till the time comes."

She leaned back against my shoulder and held out her hands to the
fire-light. She had taken off her left glove, and now again I saw the
wedding-ring upon her finger.

She was asleep. I drew her head down on my knees and spread my coat
around her, and let her rest there. She was happy again in sleep, as
her nature was to be always. But, though I held her as she held my
heart, my soul seemed dead, and I waited sleepless and heard only the
whining of the heavy wind and scurry of the blown snow.

The wolf still howled from afar, but the dogs only whimpered in answer
among the trees, where they had withdrawn.

At last I raised her in my arms and carried her inside the tent. She
did not waken, but only stirred and murmured my name drowsily. I stood
outside the tent and listened to her soft breathing.

How helpless she was! How trusting!

That turned the battle. I loved her madly, but never again dare I
breathe a word of love to her so long as that shadow obscured her mind.
But if sunlight succeeded shadow----

The fire had sunk to a heap of red-grey ashes. I piled on fresh
boughs till the embers caught flame again and the bright spears danced
under the pines. The reek of smoking pine logs is in my nostrils yet.

CHAPTER IX

THE FUNGUS

My rest was miserable. In a succession of brief dreams I fled with
Jacqueline over a wilderness of ice, while in the distance, ever
drawing nearer, followed Leroux, Lacroix, and Pere Antoine. I heard
Jacqueline's despairing cries as she was torn from me, while my
weighted arms, heavier than lead, drooped helplessly at my sides, and
from afar Simon mocked me.

Then ensued a world without Jacqueline, a dead eternity of ice and snow.

I must have fallen sound asleep at last, for when I opened my eyes the
sun was shining brightly low down over the Riviere d'Or. The door of
the tent stood open and Jacqueline was not inside.

With the remembrance of my dream still confusing reality, I ran toward
the trees, shouting for her in fear.

"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I called.

She was coming toward me. She took me by the arm. "Paul!" she began
with quivering lips. "Paul!"

She led me into the recesses o