"Only by the way he stares at me," I said. "Well, he said he thought he knew you and asked me your name," the clerk answered. "He didn't give me his, and I don't think he has been in here before." I took Jacqueline for a stroll on the Terrace, and while we walked I pondered over the problem. The night was too beautiful for my depression of mind to last. The stars blazed brilliantly overhead; upon our left the faint outlines of the Laurentians rose, in front of us the lights of Levis twinkled above the frozen gulf. There was a flicker of Northern Lights in the sky. We paced the Terrace, arm in arm, from the statue of Champlain that overlooks the Place d'Armes to the base of the mighty citadel, and back, till the cold drove us in. Jacqueline was very quiet, and I wondered what she remembered. I dreaded always awakening her memory lest, with that of her home, came that other of the dead man. Our rooms were on the side of the Chateau facing the town, and as we passed beneath the arch I saw two men standing no great distance away, and watching us, it seemed to me. One wore the cassock of a priest, and I could have sworn that he was Pere Antoine; the other resembled the inquisitive stranger. As we drew near they moved behind a pillar. Thus, inexorably, the chase drew near. My suspicions received confirmation a few minutes later, for we had hardly reached our rooms, and I was, in fact, standing at the door of Jacqueline's, bidding her good night, when a bellboy came along the passage and announced that the gentleman whom I was expecting was coming up the stairs. I said good-night to Jacqueline and went into my room and waited. I had thought it would be the stranger, but it was the priest. I invited him to enter, and he came in and stood with his fur cap on his head, looking direfully at me. "Well, _monsieur_, what is the purpose of this visit?" I asked. "To tell you," he thundered, "that you must give up the unhappy woman who has accompanied you here." "That is precisely what I intend to do," I answered. "To me," he said. "Her husband----" I felt my brain whirling. I knew now that I had always cherished a hope, despite the ring--what a fool I had been! "I married them," continued Pere Antoine. "Where is he?" I demanded desperately. He appeared disconcerted. I gathered from his stare that he had supposed I knew. "This is a Catholic country," he went on, more quietly. "There is no divorce; there can be none. Marriage is a sacrament. Sinning as she is----" I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I will not hear any more," I said. "Go!" I pointed toward the door. "I am going to take her away with me," he said, and crossing the threshold into the corridor, placed one hand on the door of Jacqueline's room. I got there first. I thrust him violently aside--it was like pushing a monument; turned the key, which happily was still outside, and put it in my pocket.