afraid of the woods to-night. Let us sit here a while."

I could not grasp her mood, but there was nothing for me but to yield
to it. I made her as comfortable as possible, and saw that the fire
was kept alight; then I sat near her. I was tired, but time went
swiftly. My mind would not have given my body rest, even had I lain
down.

In time the woman leaned toward me. "There is--there is no woman who
will suffer from this?" she asked slowly.

I stirred the fire. "I have no wife, mademoiselle."

"I did not mean that. There is no woman who--who cares for you?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"And you--and you, monsieur? There is no one whom you are giving up?"

I answered slowly. "Mademoiselle," I said, "you are a strangely wise
woman. You know the value of reticence,--something few women seem to
know. We have talked of many things, of ambition, of justice, of
generosity, but never, never of love. Are you wise to open the past in
that one matter? I have asked you no questions."

She hid her face in her hands. "But I will tell you. I was betrothed
to my cousin,--to Benjamin Starling. I would not marry him now, I
would not marry him now to save him from the rack. I have nothing more
to tell you, monsieur."