poor
street. Many a thing besides light-hearted gaieties happened in
carnival season.

He became aware that a friendly person had come up, was with him
beating off raven, gorgon, and satyr. He saw that this person was very
big, and caught an old, oft-noted trick in the swing of his arm.
To-night, in carnival time, when there was trouble, it seemed quite
natural and with a touch of home that Old Steadfast should loom forth.

A clang of music, shouting, and an oncoming array of lights helped to
daunt band of ravens and drunken masks. A procession of fishermen with
nets and monsters of the sea approached, went by. The attackers merged
in the throng that attended or followed, went away with innocent
shouts and songs. A second push followed the first, a great crowd of
masks and spectators bound for a piazza through which was to pass one
of the final large pageants. This wave carried with it Ian and
Alexander. On such a night, where every sea was tumult, one
indication, one propelling touch, was as good as another. The two went
on in company. Alexander was not masked. Ian was, but that did not
to-night hide him from the other. They came into the flaringly lighted
place. Around stood old ruins, piers, broken arches and columns, and
among these modern houses. For the better viewing of the spectacle
banks of seats had been built, tier upon tier rising high, propped
against what had been ancient bath or temple. The crowd surged to
these, filling every stretch and cranny not yet seized upon. There
issued that the tiers were packed; dark, curving, mounting rows where
foot touched shoulder. The piazza turned amphitheater.

Still, in this carnival night, Ian and Alexander found themselves
together. They were sitting side by side, a third of the way between
pavement and the topmost row. They sat still, broodingly, in a cloud
of things rememberable, no distinct images, but all their common past,
good and bad, and the progress from one to the other, making as it
were one chord, or a mist of one color. They did not reason about this
momentary oneness, but took it as it came. It was carnival season.

Yet the cloud dripped honey, the color was clear and not unrestful,
the chord sweet and resounding.

The pageant, fantastic, towering, red and purple lighted, passed by.
The throng upon the seats moved, rose, struck heavily with their feet,
going down the narrow ways. Many torches had been extinguished, many
that were carried had gone