"I will. It will be the beginning of the confession which I shall
afterwards make to the world."

"By Heaven you shall not do it. Do you want to wreck her life?"

Jaspar Hume's face was wrathful, and remained so till the other sank back
in the chair with his forehead in his hands; but it softened as he saw
this remorse and shame. He began to see that Lepage had not clearly
grasped the whole situation. He said in quieter but still firm tones:
"No, Lepage, that matter is between us two, and us alone. She must never
know--the world therefore must never know. You did an unmanly thing; you
are suffering a manly remorse. Now let it end here--but I swear it
shall," he said in sharp tones, as the other shook his head negatively:
"I would have let you die at Manitou Mountain, if I had thought you would
dare to take away your wife's peace--your children's respect."

"I have no children; our baby died."

Hume softened again. "Can you not see, Lepage? The thing cannot be
mended. I bury it all, and so must you. You will begin the world again,
and so shall I. Keep your wife's love. Henceforth you will deserve it."

Lepage raised moist eyes to the other and said: "But you will take back
the money I got for that?"

There was a pause, then Hume replied: "Yes, upon such terms, times, and
conditions as I shall hereafter fix. You have no child, Lepage?" he
gently added.