ds 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
remains for some time in conversation with a royal duke, who takes his
arm, and with him passes into the street. The duke is a member of this
great man's club, and offers him a seat in his brougham. Amid the cheers
of the people they drive away together. Inside the club there are fresh
congratulations, and it is proposed to arrange an impromptu dinner,
at which the duke will preside. But with modesty and honest thanks
the great man declines. He pleads an engagement. He had pleaded this
engagement the day before to a well-known society. After his health is
proposed, he makes his adieux, and leaving the club, walks away towards
a West-end square. In one of its streets he pauses, and enters
a building called "Providence Chambers." His servant hands him a
cablegram. He passes to his library, and, standing before the fire,
opens it. It reads: "My wife and I send congratulations to the great
man."

Jaspar Hume stands for a moment looking at the fire, and then says
simply: "I wish poor old Bouche were here." He then sits down and writes
this letter:

My dear Friends,--Your cablegram has made me glad. The day is over.
My latest idea was more successful than I even dared to hope; and
the world has been kind. I went down to see your boy, Jaspar, at
Clifton last week. It was his birthday, you know--nine years old,
and a clever, strong-minded little fellow. He is quite contented.
As he is my god-child, I again claimed the right of putting a
thousand dollars to his credit in the bank,--I have to speak of
dollars to you people living in Canada--which I have done on his
every birthday. When he is twenty-one he will have twenty-one
thousand dollars--quite enough for a start in life. We get al