Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. 
There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer
Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces,
Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful. 
Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivings 935
Stole o’er the maiden’s heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed,
Broke the silence and said, “If you came by the Atchafalaya,
How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel’s boat on the bayous?”
Over Evangeline’s face at the words of Basil a shade passed. 
Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous accent, 940
“Gone? is Gabriel gone?” and, concealing her face on his shoulder,
All her o’erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented. 
Then the good Basil said,—­and his voice grew blithe as he said it,—­
“Be of good cheer, my child; it is only today he departed. 
Foolish boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my horses. 945
Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spirit
Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. 
Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever,
Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles,
He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, 950
Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him
Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. 
Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains,
Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. 
Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; 955
He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him. 
Up and away tomorrow, and through the red dew of the morning,
We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison.”

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the river,
Borne aloft on his comrades’ arms, came Michael the fiddler. 960
Long under Basil’s roof had he lived, like a god on Olympus,
Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. 
Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. 
“Long live Michael,” they cried, “our brave Acadian minstrel!”
As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straightway 965
Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man
Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured,
Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips,
Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters. 
Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-devant blacksmith, 970
All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor;
Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and the climate,
And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would take them;
Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise. 
Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy veranda, 975
Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of Basil
Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together.