Presently were heard the shuffling steps of a number of men in the
great hall, bearing the body of the Bourgeois into the large room
where the sunshine was playing so gloriously.
The crowd, impelled by a feeling of reverence, stood back; only a
few ventured to come into the house.
The rough habitans who brought him in laid him upon a couch and
gazed for some moments in silent awe upon the noble features, so
pale and placid, which now lay motionless before them.
Here was a man fit to rule an empire, and who did rule the half of
New France, who was no more now, save in the love and gratitude of
the people, than the poorest piece of human clay in the potter's
field. The great leveller had passed his rule over him as he passes
it over every one of us. The dead lion was less now than the living
dog, and the Golden Dog itself was henceforth only a memory, and an
epitaph forever of the tragedy of this eventful day.
"Oh, my master! my good, noble master!" exclaimed Dame Rochelle as
she roused herself up and rushed to the chamber of the dead.
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