The awe and consternation on every face was indescribable, and when at last the solemn cortege came in sight they all, with bared heads, gathered round the waggon to look upon the lifeless form, clad in the uniform of a British general. The Duke's two attendants, who had followed him all the way, were too overcome with grief to be able to give an intelligent account of the tragedy. "The steamer is in," said the Chief. "One of you had better cross over at once and tell Captain Stewart to lose no time in getting up steam. And you, Rug," he said, "had better relieve the suspense at home. Tell them that I shall see the body safely to Montreal. Any of you," he continued, addressing the crowd, "who wish to pay your last respects to the Commander-in-Chief should come with us." In less than two hours the body was conveyed to the little steamer on a rude stretcher, and they were soon _en route_ for Montreal. In the meantime Rug had reached home and found them all in tears. Chrissy was wringing her hands in anguish of spirit. "O Rug! Rug!" she said, "have you heard the sad news?" "Yes," he replied; "but how could you have heard it so soon?" "Mike brought it from the farm," she said. "And how could Mike have known about it?" he asked. Chrissy could not answer. She had lost all control of her feelings. "I don't see why you should make such a fuss about it," he said; "he was no relation of yours--you never even saw him." A strange, questioning look came into the sister's face as she struggled to suppress her emotions. "Why do you speak in such a strange way--have you been drinking, Rug?" she said. "Drinking!" he exclaimed, disdainfully, "did you ever see me drunk? This is no time for drinking. Where's mother?" "She went to comfort poor Sarah as soon as she heard of the accident," replied Chrissy. "And why should Sarah feel so badly about it, pray? Women are the strangest mortals I ever met. Hannah is the only sensible one among them." He threw himself on a couch and began to survey the decorations in the room, which were as pretty as womanly taste could make them. "Come now, Chrissy, dry your tears and get me something to eat like a dear girl--do--for I am awfully hungry." "Could you not wait a little longer? The Duke may be here at any time, and you will have no appetite left for the good dinner that I fear will be spoiled if he does not come soon." "What are you talking about, Chrissy?" said Rug. "Did you not hear that the Duke is dead?" "No," she replied. "And did you not hear that Phil was killed yesterday?" her voice almost incoherent with sobs. "What!" he cried, "Phil--dead? Is it possible? Is it possible? How did it happen?" "Mike said that he decided to return from Montreal by stage, and that the horses baulked on a dangerous hill near the Rouge. The stage was overturned and he was thrown out violently and his neck was broken. His wife knew nothing of it until they carried his body in."