the priest, and then--"

"I'll never tell it till I'm on my death-bed. Then I'll tell it, sacre
bapteme, yes!"

"You're a bad Catholic, Denzil," remarked Carnae with emotion, but a
smile upon his face.

"I may be a bad Catholic, but the man deserved to die, and he died.
What's the difference, so far's the world's concerned, whether he died by
accident, or died--as he died. It's me that feels the fury of the
damned, and want my girl back every hour: and she can't come. But some
day I'll go to M'sieu' Luke Tarboe, and tell him the truth, as I've told
it you--bagosh, yes!"

"I think he'd try and kill you, if you did. That's the kind of man he
is."

"You think if he knew the truth he'd try and kill me--he!"

Carnac paused. He did not like to say everything in his mind. "Do you
think he'd say much and do little?"

"I dunno, I dunno, but I'll tell him the truth and take my chance."
Suddenly he swung round and stretched out appealing hands. "Haven't you
got any sense, m'sieu'? Don't you see what you should do? Ma'm'selle
Junia cares for you. I know it--I've seen it in her eyes often--often."

With sudden vehemence Carnac caught the wrists of the other. "It can't
be, Denzil. I can't tell you why yet. I'm going away. If Tarboe wants