The majestic anthem of Russia, the paean of the Marseillaise, the livelier march of Italy, the song of Germany, the Star-Spangled Banner; and long before the band struck into the solemn rhythm of "God save the King," Stella Croyle at all events knew that Calypso had lost.

For she saw a flame illumine Luttrell's face and transfigure him.

He had slipped out of her reach.

The doubts and perplexities which had so troubled him during the last months were now resolved.

As he listened to the Hymns, he saw as in a vision the nations advancing abreast over a vast plain like battalions in line with their intervals for manoeuvring spaced out between them.