woman here in Lebanon, and
gave her peace. As I did so the funeral bell rang out, and it came to
me, as though the One above had spoken, that peace would be slain and
His name insulted by all of you--by all of you, Catholic and Protestant.
God's voice bade me come to you from the bed of one who has gone hence
from peace to Peace. In the name of Christ, peace, I say! Peace, in the
name of Christ!"

He raised the sacred vessel high above his head, so that his eyes looked
through the walls of his uplifted arms. "Kneel!" he called in a clear,
ringing voice which yet quavered with age.

There was an instant's hush, and then great numbers of the crowd in
front of him, toughs and wreckers, blasphemers, turbulent ones and
evil-livers, yet Catholics all, with the ancient root of the Great Thing
in them, sank down; and the banners of the labour societies drooped
before the symbol of peace won by sacrifice.

Even the Orangemen bared their heads in the presence of that Popery
which was anathema to them, which they existed to combat, and had been
taught to hate. Some, no doubt, would rather have fought than have had
peace at the price; but they could not free their minds from the sacred
force which had brought most of the crowd of faction-fighters to their
knees.

With a wave of the hand, Gabriel Druse ordered the cortege forward, and
silently the procession with its yellow banners and its sable, drooping
plumes moved on.

Once on its way again, Willy Welsh and his silver-cornet band struck up
the hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light." It was the one real coincidence of the
day that this moving hymn was written by a cardinal of the Catholic
Church. It was also an irony that, as the crowd of sullen Frenchmen
turned back to Manitou, the train bearing the Mounted Police, for whom
the Mayor had sent to the capital, steamed noisily in, and redcoats
showed at its windows and on the steps of the cars.

The only casualty that the day saw was the broken arm and badly bruised
body of Felix Marchand, who was gloomily helped back to his home across
the Sagalac.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE BEACONS

There were few lights showing in Lebanon or Manitou; but here and
there along the Sagalac was the fading glimmer of a camp-fire, and in
Tekewani's reservation one light glowed softly like a star. It came
from a finely-made and chased safety-lantern given to Tekewani by the
Government, as a symbol of honour for having kept the braves quiet when
an Indian