It was nearing sundown when Marcel Longville, standing by her kitchen window, saw Donelle coming toward the house. The Captain was at Dan’s Place. Donelle walked slowly, and when she saw Marcel, smiled wanly and opened the door. "Marcel," she began, and her voice was tired and thin, "I want you to do something for me. I want you to—to tell a lie for me." "Why, child, what’s the matter?" "Marcel, Mamsey thought I was here last night. Will you please tell her I was?" Marcel’s hands were in biscuit dough; she leaned forward heavily, and the soft, light mass rose half-way up her arms. "Lord! child, where were you last night? I thought you were keeping my boarder as well as your own. Mam’selle just stopped here; she looked queer enough when she found you were not here. There’s no use of the lie, child. She knows." For a moment Donelle looked as though nothing mattered, as if the earth had slipped from beneath her feet. From Gavot’s window she had seen the _River Queen_ depart with its two passengers from Point of Pines. Tom had not been visible since daybreak, the world had drifted away. Alone, in space, Donelle waited, looking dumbly at Marcel. "Where were you, child?" "I was at Tom’s cabin. I’m married to him. Father Mantelle married us." Marcel raised herself, the dough clinging to her hands. She shook it off, tore it off, went to a bucket of water and soaked it off, then sank into a chair. "I’m fainting," she announced in a businesslike tone, and seemed, for an instant, to have lost consciousness. This brought Donelle to her senses, she sprang to Marcel and put her arm around the limp form. "It’s quite true," she faltered, "but of course you could not know. All my life has happened to me since yesterday morning. I’ve got used to it, but I forgot you did not know. Nothing is any use now, nothing need be hidden. I am going back to Mamsey and tell her everything—everything." Marcel was reviving. She still lay on the young, protecting arm, her eyes fastened on the white, sad face above her. "You better go slow, Donelle, when you tell Mam’selle. You don’t want to stop her heart," she cautioned. "No, I do not want to stop her heart. But I’m going to tell her everything, beginning from the time I came back from the Walled House, after Pierre Gavot told me—who I was! I can tell her now because it does not matter; nothing matters since I’m married to Tom Gavot." "It will kill her, Donelle! Mam’selle brought you from the place where she hid you. She’s had high hopes for you. It will kill her to know you’re married to Tom. Whatever made this happen?" "Why, whatever makes such things happen to any one?" Donelle sighed. Then: "If you are better, I’m going now to Mamsey." "And I’m going with you!" Marcel sprang to her feet. "Come, I’m ready," she said, wrapping her rough shawl about her head and shoulders. And together they went to Jo, followed by poor Nick.