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240 vixen crouched, guarding her young; where the great pulsing life and love of the universe beat the deathless tune in the blood of a myriad hearts. And something of the eternal fellowship of the world spoke on her lips.

"It is the age for struggle," she said. "The age for fight. The young cry their souls out to gain what they desire—and the taste of those drops is very bitter to the tongue. And the pride of the struggle is more than they will forego. And yet, for us there are compensations, monsieur. Like little children we creep home and say, 'Our God does understand—all things. For He is bigger than our creeds!’"

"God is only another name for creed—any creed. The creed of the Koran or the Eddas or the Zenda-vesta—all creeds. And God is no more, madame."

"A creed is something made and accepted by our finite intelligence. How dare you or the world judge an infinite intelligence by that?"

Dick was silent. This old woman with the toil-worn hands and the cotton dress and the speech of courtly France was only one of the many anomalies which had come under his hand in this new ever-changing Canada. But she had stirred him. He wanted to say more, and he held his lips locked, fearing lest he should say too much. In a little she spoke again.

"I have kept you long. And perhaps you come from far. I am deeply indebted to your courtesy, monsieur, and you shall tell me what is now your desire for me and for him."

"I have to get back at once, I'm afraid," said Dick. "If you care to come with me, I can fasten the shack safely until the afternoon. If not I will come or send for you then."

"I will stay until then. But you have had no rest—no food. If you"

"Thank you; I can't wait." Dick struck a match, and in the blue spurt of light he looked at his watch. "I can only just make it," he said. "I have work to do to-day—this morning."

"May the good God prosper you in it," she said gravely, and Dick laughed.