It was a happy surprise, a pretty and catching spectacular
apparition of a sort to be thoroughly appreciated by the lively
French fancy of the audience. The caught the girl's spirit, or it
caught them, and they made haste to be noisy.
"V'la! V'la! l'p'tite Alice et la bannlere de Zhorzh Vasinton!
(Look, look, little Alice and George Washington's flag!)" shouted
Oncle Jazon. He put his wiry little legs through a sort of pas de
zephyr and winked at himself with concentrated approval.
All the men danced around and yelled till they were hoarse.
By this time Rene had reached Alice's side; but she did not see
him; she ran into the blockhouse and climbed up a rude ladder-way;
then she appeared on the roof, still accompanied by Rene, and
planted the staff in a crack of the slabs, where it stood bravely
up, the colors floating free.
She looked down and saw M. Roussillon, Father Gibault and Father
Beret grouped in the centre of the area. They were waving their
hands aloft at her, while a bedlam of voices sent up applause
which went through her blood like strong wine. She smiled
radiantly, and a sweet flush glowed in her cheeks.
No one of all that wild crowd could ever forget the picture
sketched so boldly at that moment when, after planting the staff,
Alice stepped back a space and stood strong and beautiful against
the soft blue sky.
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