He had not decided the point when he heard sounds as of a mob
rushing, and, looking up the road that came curving down the hill
through the pine thicket, he saw the rout appear--men, women and
children, capped and coated in rough furs, their cheeks scarlet with the
frost and exercise, their eyes sparkling with delight. Singly down the
hill, and in groups, they came, hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm, some driving
in wooden sleighs, some of them beating such implements of tinware as
might be used for drums, some of them shouting words in that queer
Acadian French he could not understand, and all of them laughing.
He could not conceive what had happened; the place that was usually so
lonely, the people that had been so lazy and dull--everything within
sight seemed transformed into some mad scene of carnival. The crowd
swept past him, greeting him only with shouts and smiles and grimaces.
He knew from the number that all the people from that end of the island
were upon the road to the other end, and running after with hasty
curiosity, he went far enough to see that the news of their advent had
preceded them, and that from every side road or wayside house the people
came out to join in the riotous march.
Getting further forward upon the road, Caius now saw what he could not
see from his own door, a great beacon fire lit upon the hill where the
men had been watching.
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