way to dishonor. When God brings me back, my army and my Queen are
going with me to liberate our people. There is only one way that
leads there--the King's high way. Look, _monsieur,_ you can
see the beginning of it down there. I hope you wish me well on that
road, for I shall never take another."

So he bade me good afternoon very courteously and walked away among
the dunes to his little cottage at La Panne.

Looking down through the light haze of evening I saw a strip of
the straight white road leading eastward across the level land. At
the beginning of it there was a broken bridge; in places it seemed
torn up by shells; it disappeared in the violet dusk. But as I
looked a vision came.

The bridge is restored, the road mended and built up, and on that
highway rides the King in his faded uniform with the Queen in white
beside him. At their approach ruined villages rejoice aloud and
ancient towns break forth into singing.

In Bruges the royal comrades stand beside the gigantic monument
in the centre of the Great Market, and above the shouting of the
multitude the music of the old belfry floats unheard. Ghent and
Antwerp have put on their glad raiment, and in their crooked streets
and crowded squares joy flows like a river surging as it goes. Into
Brussels I see this man and woman ride through a welcome that rises
around them like the voice of many waters--the welcome of those
who have waited and suffered, the welcome of those to whom liberty
and honor were more dear than life. In the _Grande Place,_
the antique, carven, gabled houses are gay with fluttering banners;