When Valmond Came to Pontiac, Complete

other, the shop of the Little Chemist; on another, the office of

bottles of coloured water in the shop windows; of Medallion's, the stoop that surrounded three sides of the building, and the notices of sales tacked up, pasted up, on the front; of the Hotel Louis Quinze, the deep dormer windows,

the house of the Cure, Monsieur Fabre. Travelling towards the south, out of the silken haze of a mid-summer day, you would come in time to the hills of Maine; north, to the city of Quebec and the river St. Lawrence; east,

ren of the village and many of their elders. All the events of that epoch were dated from the evening of thi

ution, at another it suggested the wayward abstraction of the dreamer. He was well-figured, with a hand of peculiar whiteness, suggesting in its breadth more the man of action than of meditation. But it was a contradiction; for, as you saw it rise and fall, you were struck by its dramatic delicacy; as it rested on the railing of the veranda, by its latent power. You faced incongruity everywhere. His dress

d, calling on the children to gather them, in French which was not the French of Pontiac-or Quebec; and this refined accent the Cure was quick to detect, as Monsieur Garon the avocat, standing on the outskirts of the crowd, ha

little lad of five crowded out of the way by his elders, he stepped down with a quick word of sympathy, put a half-dozen pennies in the child's pocket, snatched him up and kissed him, and then returned to the stoop, w

er paused, handed the spoon to the landlord, drew out a fine white handkerchief

t four great pitchers of wine and a dozen tin cups, and, sending the garcon around with one, the landlord with another, he motioned Parpon the dwarf to bear a hand. Parpon shot out a quick, half-resentful look at him, but meeting a warm, friendly eye, he took the pitcher and went round among the elders, while the stranger himself court

moved through the crowd, disp

we come to

y we, 'have y

e! B

y we, 'have y

vem

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short stature, a voice which gave you a shiver of delight and pain all at once. It had in it mystery and the incomprehensible. This drinking-song, h

ould have laid on it, "we're going to be somebody now in Pontiac, bless the Lord! We're

old bar to the stranger's brea

he stranger. Tall Medallion the auctioneer took a glass of the wine, and

th a laugh like the note of an organ. "Drink to both,

y of work for you. We're going to be gay in Pontiac. We'll come to you with our spoiled stomachs.

a Riviere: "There's nothing like hot pennies and wine to make the world love you. But it's too late, too

le tende

vive

le tend

vive

r a gra

roi, l

r a gra

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d ever heard him sing. His concert-house was the Rock of Red Pigeons, his favourite haunt, his other home, where, it was said, he

him on the shoulder. He turned and saw the str

et with an air of command. P

his ear. There was a moment's pause, in which the dwarf looked into the other's eyes with an intense curiosity-or incredulity-and then Medallion lifted the little man on to the

her pro

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er prom

vive

leman of

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leman of

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t absurd, coming as it did from so uncouth a musician. T

where goes

rive

here goes

vive

on a wh

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a silve

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to the wa

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to the w

vive

ilver he w

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, youths and maidens-en

t lines and the refrain

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faces of the Cure, the avocat, and the auctioneer; and his eyes steadied to Medallion's humorous look, to the Cure's puzzled questioning, to the avocat's bird-like c

aid the landlord in advance, and had then gone to bed, leaving word that he was not to be waked till three o'clock the next afternoon. True, the landlord could not by any hint or indirection discover from whence his midnight visitor came. But if a gentleman paid his way, and was generous and polite, and minded his own business, wh

ing of the gentleman, something of the comedian. The alert Medallion himself did not realise the touch of the comedian in him, till the white hand was waved grandiloquently over the heads of the crowd. Then something in the gesture corresponded with something i

s our life. So I am one with you, for only now do I step from dream to action. My children, you shall be my brothers, and together we will sow the seed of action and reap the grain; we will make a happy garden of flowers, and violets shall bloom everywhere out of our dream-everywhere. Violets, my children, pluck the wild violets, and bring them to me, and I will give you silver for them, and I will love you. Never forget," he added, with a swelling voice, "that you owe y

were mystified, but wine and rhetoric had fired them, and they cheered him-no one knew why. The Cure, as he turned to leave, with Monsieur Garon, shook his head in bewilderment; but even he did not smile, for the man's eloquence had impressed him;

," said the Cure abstracted

itants scatter, till only Parpon and the stranger were left, and these t

mming the door-jamb with his fingers; "whi

dow opposite, inside which Monsieur Valmond and Parpon were in

tleman of

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to the open window and stretch out his hand,