Ranald gazed at her in fear as if she had suddenly gone mad. “Lily?” he gasped. “Yes, Lily,” cried Kate; “didn't you know Lily Langford, Harry's dearest and most devoted?” “No,” said Ranald; “and it is not you?” “Not me,” cried Kate, “not in the very least.” “Oh, Kate, tell me, is this all true? Are you still free? And is there any use?” “What do you mean?” cried Kate, dancing about in sheer joy, “you silly boy.” By this time Ranald had got hold of her hands. “Look here, old chap,” burst in Merrill, “your train's going. Oh, beg pardon.” “Take the next, Ranald.” “Merrill,” said Ranald, solemnly, “tell the fellows I'm not going on this train.” “Hoorah!” cried little Merrill, “I guess I'll tell 'em you are gone. May I tell the fellows, Kate?” “What?” said Kate, blushing furiously. “Yes, Merrill,” cried Ranald, in a voice strident with ecstasy, “you may tell them. Tell the whole town.” Merrill rushed to the door. “I say, fellows,” he cried, “look here.” The men came trooping at his call, but only to see Ranald and Kate disappearing through the other door. “He's not going,” cried Merrill, “he's gone. By Jove! They've both gone.” “I say, little man,” said big Starry Hamilton, “call yourself together if you can. Who've both gone? In short, who is the lady?” “Why, Kate Raymond, you blessed idiot!” cried Merrill, rushing for the door, followed by the whole crowd. “Three cheers for Macdonald!” cried Starry Hamilton, as the carriage drove away, and after the three cheers and the tiger, little Merrill's voice led them in the old battle-cry, heard long ago on the river, but afterward on many a hard-fought foot-ball field, “Glengarry forever!” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man From Glengarry, by Ralph Connor