His wife looked up half-startled and said: "Very well, dear; he is a good
man--and a great man."

The sunlight still came in through the open door. The Saskatchewan flowed
swiftly between its verdant banks, an eagle went floating away to the
west, robins made vocal a solitary tree a few yards away, troopers moved
backwards and forwards across the square, and a hen and her chickens came
fluttering to the threshold. The wife looked at the yellow brood drawing
close to their mother, and her eyes grew wistful. She thought of their
one baby asleep in an English grave. But thinking of the words of the
captain of the White Guard, Lepage said firmly: "We will begin the world
again."

She smiled, and rose to kiss him as the hen and chickens hastened away
from the door, and a clear bugle call sounded in the square.




XI

Eleven years have gone since that scene was enacted at Edmonton.

A great gathering is dispersing from a hall in Piccadilly. It has been
drawn together to do honour to a man who has achieved a triumph in
engineering science. As he steps from the platform to go, he is greeted
by a fusilade of cheers. He bows calmly and kindly. He is a man of
vigorous yet reserved aspect; he has a rare individuality. He receives
with a quiet cordiality the personal congratulations of his friends. He