Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others

Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the black

smith,

As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows.

Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted

66

Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance!

Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests!"

More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier

Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement.

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the

altar.

Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence

All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people;

Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and

mournful

Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes.

"What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you?

Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and

taught you,

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!

Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and

privations?

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and for

giveness?

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it

Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with

hatred ?

Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing

upon you!

See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy com

passion!

Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!'

Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,

Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them!'” Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people

Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate outbreak ;

And they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them!"

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar.

Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people responded,

Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave

Maria

Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated,

Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven.

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides

Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and

children.

Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right

hand

Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending,

Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed each

Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its windows.

Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table;

There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with

wild flowers;

There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy;

And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of the

farmer.

Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the

sunset

Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial

meadows.

Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen,

"Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women."

And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended

Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience!

Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of

the women,

As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they de

parted,

Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their

children.

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering

vapors

Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.

Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded.

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lingered.

All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows

Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by

emotion,

"Gabriel" cried she aloud with tremulous voice; but no

answer

Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave

of the living

Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father.

Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood the supper untasted,

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror.

Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber.

In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the

window.

Keenly the lightning flashed, and the voice of the echoing thunder

Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he created!

Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of heaven;

Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slum.

bered till morning.

"Marching in gloomy procession

Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers."

V.

day

Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm

house.

Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful pro

cession,

Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women,

Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the

sea-shore,

Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their

dwellings,