As he spake he turned and faced me, but by this I had recovered command of myself, and saw that his thin face was flushed and drawn with suffering. "Let me go on," he said, with decision. "I owe an explanation to myself as well as to you." Just what he said I cannot clearly recall. The revelation he had made was so astounding, had so completely changed the whole complexion of my outlook, that my brain could scarce apprehend the import of his words. I only realised that Margaret was no longer beyond my reach. The rest mattered not one whit. When he ceased speaking, I briefly exposed what had been my position throughout, without reserve or argument, leaving it to him to draw his own conclusion. "Chevalier," cried the priest, heartily, as I ended, "I feel that any apology would be frivolous in the face of what you have told me, but I can assure you no man was ever more satisfied to find himself in the wrong than I." "I take that as more than any apology," I returned, as sincerely. "But to return to Sarennes. What use did he make of my letter?" "He attempted such a use that the outcome of your meeting with him is fully justified." "It was justified as it was!" I objected. "I do not fight on trifles. Do you mean, he tried to persuade Margaret that it referred to her?" "He did. And though I was enabled to save her from personal danger, I could do nothing to relieve the distress he had wrought by these means." "The hound! It would have been a satisfaction to have known this when I met him." "Remember, though, it is entirely owing to the loyalty of his mother and sister that her position here has been possible." "That is true; but I see as clearly, that her reception by them was only possible through your answering for her. I owe you everything." "You owe me much," he said, quietly, as if to himself. And at the simple words of self-abnegation my heart ached at the thought of the pain I had involuntarily caused. "I am sorry for any family that holds so black a sheep as Sarennes," I said, to break the awkward pause that followed. "His family need know nothing, beyond that he died on the field of battle, a much more desirable fate than he was likely to meet with in France, had he lived; for, believe me, information has gone forward that will insure the trial and, I trust, the punishment of every peculator who has helped to ruin this miserable colony, no matter which way the present crisis may turn." "Now that we have confidence in each other, may I ask why you never let me know of your presence in Canada?"