r-Mer. Jean was born to the life that
he was going to. Was he not even now taking his place amongst these
great strangers as though he had been accustomed to do so always? And
she, if she should try to do it, they would laugh at her, and she would
bring ridicule upon Jean, and she could not do what Jean could do. She
was a peasant girl whom mademoiselle scolded about going without shoes
and stockings.

And Jean must surely have seen these things, too. But Jean, though he
had heedlessly hurt her so when he had given away again the little
beacon, would never speak to her of this, because this was a much
greater thing which was to change all their lives. It was she who must
speak to Jean, it was she who must tell him that she understood that
the great future which lay before him must not be harmed; that she must
not hold him back; that she must not stand in his way; that she would
only hurt him in that dazzling, bewildering world that would disdain a
fishergirl; that it was France, not she, who came first.

The night had brought her that. It was only the courage she needed now
to act upon it.

She stood up, looking through the window--and the great dark eyes
filled with a blinding mist.

"Jean! Jean!" she said brokenly aloud.

A little while she stood there, and then walked slowly across the room
to the bed. And as once she had knelt there before, she dropped again
upon her knees beside it. And now the smile came bravely again. They
were wrong. It was not true. There was a place in his life for
her--something that she could do now. There was one way in which her
love could still help Jean in the wonderful life that had come to him.

The dark head bent to the coverlet.

"_Mon Pere_," she whispered, "make me that--Jean's beacon now."

And after a time she rose, and bathed her face, and fastened the black
coils of hair that had become unloosed, and, as she heard Nanette
stirring below, went quietly downstairs.

She must see Jean. They were going away to-day, mademoiselle and
monsieur, and Nanette and Jules; and Jean was to follow them in a few
days. She had heard mademoiselle and her father discussing it at their
supper last evening. She must see Jean now before the others went,
so--so that everybody would understand.

She stole out of the house, gained the road and started to run along it
toward the village. Jean would be up long ago, all his life he had
risen hours before this, and she would be