rsation, and took life as he
found it, never too seriously, yet never carelessly. That was before he
left the village of Pontiac in Quebec to offer himself as a surgeon to
the American Army. When he came back there was a change in him. He was
still handsome, but something of the spring had gone from his walk, the
quick light of his eyes had given place to a dark, dreamy expression,
his skin became a little dulled, and his talk slower, though not less
musical or pleasant. Indeed, his conversation had distinctly improved.
Previously there was an undercurrent of self-consciousness; it was
all gone now. He talked as one knowing his audience. His office became
again, as it had been before, a rendezvous for the few interesting men
of the place, including the Avocat, the Cure, the Little Chemist, and
Medallion. They played chess and ecarte for certain hours of certain
evenings in the week at Secord's house. Medallion was the first to
notice that the wife--whom Secord had married soon after he came back
from the war--occasionally put down her work and looked with a curious
inquiring expression at her husband as he talked. It struck Medallion
that she was puzzled by some change in Secord.

Secord was a brilliant surgeon and physician. With the knife or beside
a sick-bed, he was admirable. His intuitive perception, so necessary in
his work, was very fine: he appeared to get at the core of a patient's
trouble, and to decide upon necessary action with instant and absolute
confidence. Some delicate operation performed by him was recorded
and praised in the Lancet; and he was offered a responsible post in
a medical college, and, at the same time, the good-will of a valuable
practice. He declined both, to the lasting astonishment, yet personal
joy, of the Cure and the Avocat; but, as time went on, not so much to
the surprise of the Little Chemist and Medallion. After three years, the
sleepy Little Chemist waked up suddenly in his chair one day, and said:
"Parbleu, God bless me!" (he loved to mix his native language with
English) got up and went over to Secord's office, adjusted his glasses,
looked at Secord closely, caught his hand with both of his own, shook
it with shy abruptness, came back to his shop, sat down, and said: "God
bless my soul! Regardez ca!"

Medallion made his discovery sooner. Watching closely he had seen
a pronounced deliberation infused through all Secord's indolence of
manner, and noticed that often, before doin