ssuaded?"

"Not the smallest particle. I shall be strong, never fear."

"I am drawn toward you, Monsieur. I am a priest, but I love courage
and the unconfused mind which accompanies it. You are a brave man."

"I?" humorously.

"Yes. Who has heard you complain?"

"Against what?" The Chevalier had propped himself on his elbow.

The Jesuit closed his lips and shook his head.

"Against what?" with piercing eyes. "Did I speak strange words when
fever moved my tongue?"

"No, Monsieur."

"You have said too much or too little," sharply.

"I have heard of Monsieur d'Herouville; he is not a good man."

"Against what did I not complain?" insistently.

"Against the misfortune which brought you here," lowly.

"You know? . . . From whom?" drawing his tongue across his parched
lips.

"I have done wrong to excite you. There were words passed to and fro
that morning at the Corne d'Abondance. Need I say more? Monsieur de
Saumaise knows, and the vicomte; why should you fear me, who have
nothing but brotherly love for you?"

"What is your name?" sinking wearily back among the pillows.

"Father Jacques, or Brother Jacques, familiarly."

"I mean your worldly name."

"I have almost forgotten it," evasively.

"You have not always been a priest?"

"Since I was eighteen." Silence. "Have you anything on your mind of
which you wish to be relieved?"

"Nothing. One can not confess who is no nearer God than I."

"Hush! That is blasphemy."

"I am sorely tried."

"Your trials are but a pebble on the sea's floor. Always remember
that, Monsieur; it will make the days less dark. No matter how much
you may suffer in the days to come, do not forget that at one time you
enjoyed to the full all worldly pleasures; that to you was given the
golden key of life as you loved it. Thousands have been denied these,
and your sufferings compared to theirs is as a child's plaint compared
to a man's agony. God has some definite purpose in crossing our paths.
Have patience."

"You, too, have suffered?" interestedly. Those almost incredible
eyes,--what mystery lurked in their abysmal greys? "You, too, have
suffered?" the Chevalier repeated.

"I?" A shiver ran over Brother Jacques's frame; his form shook and
vibrated like a harpstring rudely struck. "Yes, I have suffered; but
God is applying a remedy called forgetfulness. They will carry you up
to the deck this afternoon?"

"Yes. I am told that there are to be game