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The Keeper of the Bees

could manage. I’ve got a name and it is of no particular use to me, and I haven’t much time left in which to use it. I’ve strength enough to manage a license and a marriage ceremony, if it’s necessary. If you pledge me your word of honour that the trouble in your heart can be healed by giving you a name I am going to quit using shortly, you will grant I was right when I told you I could settle your difficulty. I’ve been wondering for days past what I might do that would be something fine and shining that I could lay at the feet of the Master when I go farthest West, as I am going very soon, to render my last account, and you have opened the way. I think it would be very decent, I think it would be something the Master would approve if I left my name to a little child that is making its way toward earth and facing a heritage you wouldn’t want for it.”

Then suddenly Jamie felt the woman in his arms merging her form with his. He felt her hands on his breast. He felt them reaching to find his face. He felt the hot breath of her voice.

“You wouldn’t!” she was panting. “Oh! you wouldn’t! You wouldn’t get me a marriage license! You wouldn’t stand through a ceremony with me! You wouldn’t let me use your name?”

Jamie found the hand on his face and gripped it tight with his left hand. He had presence of mind to tighten his grasp around the shoulders yielding to him. He was enough of a Scotsman to command the situation.

“You are mighty right I would!” he said. “I’m tell-