From forty miles away a few clicks of the telegraph flash the news to Woods. The priest knows that Peyton and his ward are safely "en route." "TrŠs bien!"
It is years before the light foot of Louise Moreau presses again the threshold of her childhood's home. In a sunny chateau, near Lausanne, a merry girl grows into a superb "Lady of the Lake." She is "Louise Moreau," but Louise "en reine." She rules the hearts of gentle Henry Peyton and the "autocrat of the Golden Chariot." It is beyond the ken of "Natalie de Santos," or Philip Hardin, to pierce the mystery of that castle by the waters of the Swiss lake.
Visions of peace lend new charms to the love of the pure-souled girl who wanders there.
Louise is not always alone by Leman's blue waters. Colonel Peyton is a thoughtful, aging man, saddened by his fiery past.
He sees nothing. He dreams of the flag which went down in battle and storm. The flag of which Father Ryan sang—"in fond recollection of a dead brother"—the ill-fated stars and bars:
"Furl that banner, for 'tis weary,
Round its staff 'tis drooping dreary.
Furl it, fold it, it is best;
For there's not a man to wave it—
And there's not a sword to save it—
And there's not one left to lave it
In the blood which heroes gave it;
And its foes now scorn and brave it;
Furl it, hide it; let it rest."
But younger and brighter eyes than his own, dimmed with battle smoke, look love into each other. Louise and Armand feel the throbbing whispers of the lake in their own beating hearts.
Far above them there, the silver peaks lift unsullied altars to the God of nature, life, and love.
And as the rosy flush of morning touches the Jungfrau, as the tender light steals along the sunlit peaks of the Alps, so does the light of love warm these two young hearts. Bounding pulse and melting accent, blush of morning on rosy peak and maiden's cheek, tell of the dawning day of light and love.
Shy and sweet, their natures mingle as two rivulets flowing to the sea. Born in darkness and coldness, to dance along in warmth and sunlight, and mingle with that great river of life which flows toward the unknown sea.