They screamed, they shrieked, they tumbled on to one another, they held on where they could, they swung from side to side. The red beadle himself caught the frenzy, flinging his fat body now here, now there. The very houses and the cobbles of the streets seemed to swing and sway as the lights flashed and flared. All the bells of the town were pealing. In the market-place they were setting off the fireworks, and the rockets, green and red and gold, streaked the purple sky and fought for rivalry with the stars. All the sky now was scattered with sparks of gold. From the highest heaven to the lowest of man's ditches the world crackled and split and sang. Now was the moment when all enemies were truly forgotten, when love was declared without fear, when lips sought lips and hands clasped hands, and heaven opened and all the human souls marched in. Tra-_la_-la-la-Tra-_la_ Tra-_la_-la-la-Tra-_la._ Back into the market-place they all tumbled, then, standing in a serried mass as the beadle and his followers mounted the Town Hall steps, they shouted: "All together: One--two--three. One--Two--Three. One. Two. Three. HURRAY! HURRAY! HURRAY!" The dance of all the hearts was, for one more year, at an end. VI Every one was splitting up into little groups, some to look at the fireworks, some to have a last drink together, some to creep off into the dark shadows and there confirm their vows, some to drive home on their carts and waggons to their distant farms, some to sit in their homes for a last chatting about all the news, some to go straight to their beds--the common impulse was over although it would not be forgotten. Harkness looked around to find Gideon, but that giant was gone nor was he ever to see him again. He paused there panting, happy, forgetting for an instant everything but the fun and freedom that he had just passed through. Then, as though it would forcibly remind him, the Town Hall clock struck half-past nine. He spoke to a man standing near him: "Can you kindly tell me where a hotel called the 'Feathered Duck' is?" he asked. "Certainly," said the man, wiping the sweat from the hair matted on his forehead. "It's out on the sea-front. Go down High Street--that'll take you to the sea-front. Then walk to your right and it's about five houses down." Harkness thanked him and hurried away. He had no difficulty in finding the High Street, but there how strange to walk so quietly down it, hearing your own foot tread, watched by all the silent houses, when only five minutes ago you had been whirling in Dionysian frenzy! He was on the sea-front and two steps afterwards was looking up at the quiet and modest exterior of "The Feathered Duck."