970 Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-devant blacksmith,

All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal

demeanor;

Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and the climate,

And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would take them;

Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise.

975 Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy veranda,

Entered the hall of the house, where already the

supper of Basil

Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together.

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness de

scended.

All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape

with silver,

980 Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within doors,

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering lamplight.

Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herdsman

Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless profusion.

Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches tobacco,

985 Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they listened:

"Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friendless and homeless,

Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than the old one!

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers;

Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the

farmer;

990 Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as a keel through the water.

All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass grows

More in a single night than a whole Canadian

summer.

Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the prairies ;

Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber

995 With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses.

After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests,

No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads,

Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms and your cattle."

Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils,

1000 While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the table,

So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded,

Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his nostrils.

But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were

66

milder and gayer,

'Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever!

1005 For it is not like that of our cold Acadian cli

mate,

Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell!"

Then there were voices heard at the door; and footsteps approaching

Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda.

It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian

planters,

1010 Who had been summoned all to the house of

Basil the herdsman.

Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and

neighbors:

Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were as strangers,

Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other,

Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country

together.

1015 But in the neighboring hall a strain of music,

proceeding

From the accordant strings of Michael's melodi

ous fiddle,

Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted,

All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the maddening

Whirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music,

1020 Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering garments.

Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsman

Sat, conversing together of past and present and

future;

While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her

Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of

the music

1025 Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness

Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden.

Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the forest,

Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon.

On the river

Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight,

1030 Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious spirit.

Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden

Poured out their souls in odors, that were their

prayers and confessions

Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent

Carthusian.

Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and night-dews,

1035 Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the magical moonlight

1033. The Carthusians are a monastic order founded in the twelfth century, perhaps the most severe in its rules of all religious societies. Almost perpetual silence is one of the vows; the monks can talk together but once a week; the labor required of them is unremitting and the discipline exceedingly rigid. The first monastery was established at Chartreux near Grenoble in France, and the Latinized form of the name has given us the word Carthusian.

Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable

longings,

As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade of the oak-trees,

Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie.

Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies

1040 Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers.

Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens,

Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and worship,

Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple,

As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin."

1045 And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies,

Wandered alone, and she cried, "O Gabriel! O my beloved!

Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee?

Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me?

Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie!

1050 Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me!

Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from

labor,

Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me

in thy slumbers!

When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee?"