Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table, Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with brown ale, While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and ink-horn, Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin. Then the notary, rising and blessing the bride and bridegroom, Lifted aloft the tankard of ale, and drank to their welfare. Wiping the foam from his lips, he solemnly bowed and departed, While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside, Till Evangeline brought the draught board out of its corner. Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre. Meanwhile, apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure, Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mists of the meadows. Pleasantly rose next morn. And lo! with a summons sonorous, Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard, Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. Then came the guards from the ships, and entered the sacred portal. Straight uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his majesty's orders. Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch; Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds, Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from the province Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people!" In the midst of the tumult and angry contention that broke out, Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician Entered with solemn mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. Raising his hand, with a gesture he awed the throng into silence. "What is this that ye do?" he said. "What madness has seized you? Forty years of my life have I laboured 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 forgiveness?" Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate outbreak, While they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them!"