With the ending of the story, Bayard turned to Mme. Constantin:
“There, Louise, you have the rest of it. You understand now what I meant when I said there was something stronger than revenge;—the primeval.”
Greenough, who had sat absorbed, drinking in every word, laid his hand on Bayard’s shoulder.
“You haven’t told us their names.”
“Do you want them?”
“Yes, but write them on this card.”
Bayard slipped his gold pencil from its chain and traced two names. “My God, Bayard! That’s the same man I told you is dying of a broken heart.”
“Yes—that’s why I told you the story, Greenough. But his heart is not breaking for the woman he loved and lost, but for the man he hunted—the man I buried.”