Twice I have travelled to the grave where he lies.

I have knelt there and have beg him to tell the truth to God, and say that he torture me till I kill him.

I have beg him to forgive me and to haunt me no more with his bad face.

But never--never--never--have I one quiet hour until you come, M'sieu'; nor any joy in my heart till I tell you the black truth--M'sieu'! M'sieu!" He buried his face between Charley's feet, and held them with his hands.
Charley laid a hand on the shaggy head as though it were that of a child.

"Be still--be still, Jo," he said gently.
Since that night of St.Jean Baptiste's festival, no word of the past, of the time when Charley turned aside the revanche of justice from a man called Joseph Nadeau, had been spoken between them.