With one great stroke he drove it out and into the flood, then headed away towards the mists and colors of the distant hills, where the Oreads were calling to him.

He turned for one last look, and flung his paddle high; then, fearing lest they might see the tears that came at last unhindered, he began to sing: "Chante, rossignol, chante! Toi qui a le coeur gai; Tu as le coeur a rire Mai j' l' ai-t-a pleurer." He sang long and lustily, keeping time to the dip of his flashing paddle and defying his bursting heart.

After all, was he not a voyageur, and life but a song and a tear, and then a dream or two?
"I wish I might have known him better," sighed Meade Burrell, as he watched the receding form of the boatman.
"You would have loved him as we do," said Necia, "and you would have missed him as we will." "I hope some time he will be happy." "As happy as you, my soldier ?" "Yes; but that he can never be," said her husband; "for no man could love as I love you." "Yours is a heart that laughter cheers, Mine is a heart that's full of tears.
Long have I loved, I love her yet; Leave her I can, but not forget--" came the voice of the singer far down the stream.

And thus Poleon of the Great Heart went away.
THE END.