Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement

and forward

Rushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder; When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the Black

smith.

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. There in an arbor of roses with endless question and

"Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle

Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean."

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces,

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful.

Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivings

Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embar

rassed,

Broke the silence and said "If you come by the Atcha

falaya,

How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the bayous?"

Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed. Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous

accent

"Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his

shoulder,

All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented.

Then the good Basil said—and his voice grew blithe as he said it

"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed. Foolish boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my

horses.

Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spirit

Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence.
Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever,
Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles,
He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens,
Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me and
sent him,

Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the
Spaniards.

Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains,

Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver.

Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover;

He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him.

Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the

morning

We will follow him fast and bring him back to his prison."

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of

the river,

Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the

fiddler.

Long under Basil's roof had he lived like a god on Olym

pus,

Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals, Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle.

66

Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel!"

As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straightway

Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man

"Long live Michael,' they cried, our brave Acadian minstrel!" As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession."

tured,

Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters.

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

All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchial de

meanor;

Much they marveled 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.

Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the airy

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 descended.

All was silent without, and illuming the landscape with

silver,

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,

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

"Welcome once more, my friends, who so 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. Smoothly the plowshare 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

With a few blows of the ax 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,

And his huge, brawny hand came thundering down on the

table,

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

tounded,

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

But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder

and gayer

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

fever!

For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate,

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, 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. But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceeding From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious 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,

Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering

garments.

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