that trended towards
where, with eternal toil and sullen roar, agonize for ever the
hoary rapids of Lachine. In the other direction the eye roved
downwards over Hochelaga and Longueuil, Longue Pointe and Pointe
aux Trembles, towards where lay the islet-strewn shallows of
Boucherville, and, lower yet, the village of Varennes. The mountains
of Boucherville, Beloeil, Chambly, and Vermont shadowy bounded the
horizon; and, turning from these, abrupt before him rose the awful
and spectral presence of Mount Royal. Skirting its foot he now
proceeded, brushing away the shining dew, disturbing the lazy lizard
and the serenading grasshopper, and hearing below him the harsh
croaking of the bullfrog in the pool; whilst, ever and anon, the
gust awoke, with a huge sigh, the dreaming maples, poplars, and
dark, penitential pines. From the remote, secluded farms came the
faint bark of dogs; and amidst such sights and sounds he at length
emerged upon the winding road, that, if followed, would lead him
past Stillyside. Slowly and without special aim he continued to
walk, ruminating and still drawn onwards, lured by the time and
scene, until the sound alike of mastiff and of cur had ceased, the
grasshopper refused to pipe upon the dusty road, and the too distant
bullfrog was no longer heard gurgling to its mates, but all was
silent, lying as in a trance, both heaven and earth. And then he
paused, and lapsing into meditation, stood unconscious of surrounding
things, till the tolling of the clock in the distant tower of the
cathedral of Notre Dame awoke him, and, starting from his reverie
and listening, he counted the hours to the full score of midnight.
Struck, then, by the weird aspect of the scene and singular silence,
a vague sense of horror stole through him, and he exclaimed hoarsely:
"This is the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn
and spirits walk abroad!" and scarcely had the words escaped his
lips when a wild tumult rose near him, and he perceived a bacchanalian
and disorderly troop of both sexes sallying into the moonlight;
wherein with uncouth antics and inviting pose, they disported
towards a group of trees, encircling which, and in the chequered
beams beneath their boughs, he beheld them in Harlequin and
Columbine-like appeals of passion, or already mated and forming
for the meditated measure; appearing the very gang of Circe;--and
in their midst he now observed his son, the brutish looking, cunning,
and sensual