the peril and menace of the law? Again, even if Kathleen did not stand
in the way, neither the Cure nor any other priest would marry him to her
without his antecedents being certified. A Protestant minister would,
perhaps, but would Rosalie give up her faith? Following him without the
blessing of the Church, she would trample under foot every dear tradition
of her life, win the scorn of all of her religion, and destroy her own
peace; for the faith of her fathers was as the breath of her nostrils.
What cruelty to her!

But was it, after all, even true that he had but to call and she would
come? In truth it well might be that she had learned to despise him;
to feel how dastardly he had been to take her love, given in blind
simplicity, bestowed like the song of the bird upon the listening fields
--to take the plenteous fulness of her life, and give nothing in return
save the empty hand, the hopeless hour, the secret sorrow.

Nothing could quench his misery. The physical part of him craved without
ceasing for something to allay his distress. Again and again he fought
his old enemy with desperate resolve. To fall again, to touch liquor
once more, was to end all for ever. He fought on tenaciously and
gloomily, with little of the pride of life, with nothing of the old
stubborn self-will, but with a new-awakened sense. He had found
conscience at last--and more.

The months went by and still M. Evanturel lingered on, and Rosalie did
not come. The strain became too great at last. In the week preceding
Easter, when all the parish was busy at Four Mountains, making costumes,
rehearsing, building, putting up seats, cutting down trees, and erecting
crosses and calvaries, Charley disclosed to Jo a new intention.