He had good hope that this boundary would remain unfortified, at least until Jean’s grandchildren were past the age when they might be drafted. He did not doubt the good intentions of either nation. But there was no more frontier left, and no more chance for the democracy which is possible when land is abundant and farmers are few. Soon these islands would be taken for summer homes by money lenders. Soon industrial uses would be found for these delicate peninsulas. Soon the stratification of classes would set in, with Praetorian guards to pay. This little picture of peace was a mere utopia, like the colored perfection seen on the ground glass of a camera. But for a moment he stood above all history. He was looking down on beauty which is older than the human race and which will last when the race is gone. Before him were spread the kingdoms of earth, not as they ever were, but as he wished they might have been. Long he gazed, looking down on perfect silence, shore on shore rimmed with the intimate sea. The coasts of enemies were blending. Continent faded into continent, as if all the world were one at heart. Nations sundered by mountains and by mutual fear were hid together in the self-same cloud. All human effort seemed united to conquer, but not to ravish, the beautiful and exacting earth. It was only a wish, but it had power to strengthen him. So one last look, dear as the face of Jean’s mother. As he swept the scene with his weak human vision he murmured some lines of Greek—the lines wherein Menander counts him happiest who, before returning whence he came, gazes upon the holy things, the common sun, the water, the clouds. Then beneath the nimbus a great pure beam struggled down, whitening islands so as no fuller on earth can whiten them. Chapter 42. Molybdenum Having caught a pike and skinned it, Marvin carried the pearly residue up to Miss Mabel. Then he lingered a little with the old gunsmith, talking about guns and the new alloys of steel. He spoke of meeting Ojeeg, and learned that the chief was usually called Nick. When he reached home, the doctor took him by the hand. “My son, you gave us a very great pleasure this afternoon. Jean is in the kitchen all ready to cook your beefsteak.” He went on out to the kitchen to be purified of the lingering pike. She led him at once to the storeroom, and pointed out a fine display of stuff, including green peas and a whitefish. “Wasn’t he wonderful?” “Who?” “The Little Pine. See this love-letter tied to the bottle of olive oil. It calls me heart-berries and bee-maple-syrup, in other words strawberries and honey.” Marvin sighed with envy and held out his hand. She began his ablution and confided more misinformation. “He must have met Mr. Gillies, who was on the lookout for somebody going up. And when Mr. Gillies handed him the money he handed it right back. That made Mr. Gillies remember the potatoes.”