Adele, my soul has been less clogged by my body, and
I have seen clearly much that has been dim to me. And it has seemed to
me, my children, that all this country of America, not Canada alone, but
the land where you were born also, Amos Green, and all that stretches
away towards yonder setting sun, will be the best gift of God to man.
For this has He held it concealed through all the ages, that now His own
high purpose may be wrought upon it. For here is a land which is
innocent, which has no past guilt to atone for, no feud, nor ill custom,
nor evil of any kind. And as the years roll on all the weary and
homeless ones, all who are stricken and landless and wronged, will turn
their faces to it, even as we have done. And hence will come a nation
which will surely take all that is good and leave all that is bad,
moulding and fashioning itself into the highest. Do I not see such a
mighty people, a people who will care more to raise their lowest than to
exalt their richest--who will understand that there is more bravery in
peace than in war, who will see that all men are brothers, and whose
hearts will not narrow themselves down to their own frontiers, but will
warm in sympathy with every noble cause the whole world through?
That is what I see, Adele, as I lie here beside a shore upon which I
shall never set my feet, and I say to you that if you and Amory go to
the building of such a nation then indeed your lives are not misspent.
It will come, and when it comes, may God guard it, may God watch over it
and direct it!" His head had sunk gradually lower upon his breast and
his lids had fallen slowly over his eyes which had been looking away out
past Point Levi at the rolling woods and the far-off mountains. Adele
gave a quick cry of despair and threw her arms round the old man's neck.

"He is dying, Amory, he is dying!" she cried.

A stern Franciscan friar, who had been telling his beads within a few
paces of them, heard the cry and was beside them in an instant.

"He is indeed dying," he said, as he gazed down at the ashen face.
"Has the old man had the sacraments of the Church?"

"I do not think that he needs them," answered De Catinat evasively.

"Which of us do not need them, young man!" said the friar sternly. "And
how can a man hope for salvation without them? I shall myself
administer them without delay."

But the old Huguenot had opened his eyes, and with a last flicker of
strength he pushed away the gra