The tents had come from lumber-camps, from river-driving gangs, and from private stores; there was some regular uniform, flags were flying everywhere, many fires were burning, the voice of Lagroin in command came up the valley loudly, and Valmond watched the drill and a march past.

The fires lit up the sides of the valley and glorified the mountains beyond.

In this inspiring air it was impossible to feel an accent of disaster or to hear the stealthy footfall of ruin.
The three journeyed down into the valley, then up onto the plateau, where they were challenged, allowed to pass, and came to where Valmond sat upon his horse.

At sight of them, with a suspicion of the truth, he ordered Lagroin to march the men down the long plateau.

They made a good figure filing past the three visitors, as the young Seigneur admitted.
Valmond got from his horse, and waited for them.