"Out of all care at last," answered the Young Doctor, and took a step
towards the little man, who staggered, then recovered himself.

"She--my Zoe is dead! How?" questioned Jean Jacques in a ghostly sort
of voice, but there was a steadiness and control unlike what he had shown
in other tragic moments.

"It was a blizzard. She was bringing her husband's body in a sleigh to
the railway here. He had died of consumption. She and the driver of the
sleigh went down in the blizzard. Her body covered the child and saved
it. The driver was lost also."

"Her child--Zoe's child?" quavered Jean Jacques. "A little girl--Zoe.
The name was on her clothes. There were letters. One to her father--
to you. Your name is Jean Jacques Barbille, is it not? I have that
letter to you. We buried her and her husband in the graveyard yonder."
He pointed. "Everybody was there--even when they knew it was to be a
Catholic funeral."

"Ah! she was buried a Catholic?" Jean Jacques' voice was not quite so
blurred now.

"Yes. Her husband had become Catholic too. A priest who had met them in
the Peace River Country was here at the time."

At that, with a moan, Jean Jacques collapsed. He shed no tears, but he
sat with his hands between his knees, whispering his child's name.

The Young Doctor laid a hand on his shoulder gently, but presently went
out, shutting the door after him. As he left the room, however, he