And, as the final explosion shattered the Temple of Bondage to wreckage, flung it far into the rushing river and swept it over the leaping, thundering Falls, the news flashed on a thousand wires, to all cities and all lands; and though the mercenaries of the two dead world-masters still might struggle and might strive to beat the toilers back to slavery again, their days were numbered and their powers forever broken. Together in the doorway of the refuge at Port Colborne, Catherine stood with Gabriel, watching the beacon of liberty upon the heavens. The light, a halo round her eager face, showed his powerful figure and the smile of triumph in his eyes. His left arm, broken by the fall in the aeroplane, now rested in a sling. His right, protecting in its strength, was round the girl. And as her head found shelter and rest, at length, upon his shoulder, she, too, smiled; and her eyes seemed to see visions in the glory of the sky. "Visions!" said she, softly, as though voicing a universal thought. "Do you behold them, too?" He nodded. "Yes," he answered, "and they are beautiful and sweet and pure!" "Visions that we now shall surely see?" "Shall surely see!" he echoed; and a little silence fell. Far off, they seemed to hear a vast and thousand-throated cheering, that the night-wind brought to them in long and heart-inspiring cadences. "Gabriel," she said, at last. "Well?" "I wish _he_ might have seen them, and have understood! In spite of all he did, and was, he was my father!" "Yes," answered Gabriel, sensing her grief. "But would you have had him live through this? Live, with the whole world out of his grasp, again? Live, with all his plans wrecked and broken? Live on in this new time, where he could have comprehended nothing? Live on, in misery and rage and impotence? "Your father was an old man, Catherine. You know as well as I do--better, perhaps--the whole trend of his life's thought and ambition. Even if he'd lived, he couldn't have changed, now, at his age. It would have been an utter impossibility. Why say more?" Catherine made no reply; but in her very attitude of trust and confidence, Gabriel knew he read the comfort he had given her. Silence, a while. At last she spoke. "Visions!" she whispered. "Wonderful visions of the glad, new time! How do you see them, Gabriel?" "How do I see them?" His face seemed to glow with inspiration under the shining light in the far heavens. "I see them as the realization of a time, now really close at hand, when this old world of ours shall be, as it never yet has been, in truth civilized, emancipated, free. When the night of ignorance, kingcraft, priestcraft, servility and prejudice, bigotry and superstition shall be forever swept away by the dawn of intelligence and universal education, by scientific truth and light--by understanding and by fearlessness.