pews in the nave, were
the first representative mass of French-Canadians whom he had been
brought to face. "Here," he thought, "are those who speak the partner
voice in our Confederation, and whom we should know as brothers."

A few stood out in the quality of parts of the whole, but only to
emphasize it as a mass. Above the crowd, he marked, for instance, the
sober, responsible faces of the Marguilliers. A girl's face too,
particularly attracted him--that of one who sat beside the Sisters
attendant over the convent children in their gallery. No romantic
seraphieness glowed upon her features or her form; but she was following
the service with the light of simply such spiritual earnestness and
intelligence about her that she seemed to sit there a superior being.
But it was the faces of the laborer and the solid farmer that oftenest
dotted the surface of the sea of heads. So typical to him were the
features and responses of all, that he could not shake off the feeling
that it was not individuals he saw, but a People.

A People! No flippant thing is it to feel oneself in the presence of so
great an Organism. If some hour of one man's pain, or of the grandeur of
some other one, may be thought-worthy things, how reverently must breath
be hushed as we stand in presence of a race's life, and think we hear
its sorrows, cries and voices! Ever, thou People's Song, must thou stir
the heart that listens, sweeping its tenderest chords of pity, and
chanting organ music to its aspirations.

The cure's sermon following as before detailed, the congregation
appeared oppressed with its denunciation, but it produced, no effect
whatever upon Haviland, the Liberal leader, whose countenance rested its
dark eyes on the tablets of his ancestors in the transept wall before
him.

CHAPTER XVII.

ZOTIQUE'S RECEPTION.

A noble looking man of fifty years, stood waiting to meet them as they
made their way out. Of olive complexion, small cherry mouth and
features, yet fine head and person, and smiling benignly, he advanced a
step before Chrysler noticed him.

"Salut, M'sieu L'Honorable," bowed Haviland.

"Good-day, Chamilly," he replied quickly, without ceasing to smile
directly towards the other man and holding out his hand.

Chrysler looked closer at his features.

"Ah, Mr. Genest!" he exclaimed, with pleasure, recognizing the Hon.
Aristide Genest, a personage potent in his time in Dominion Councils.

"I hope now to know the gen