The militia had departed, their Colonel roaring commands at them out of a little red drill-book; the older people had gone to their homes, but festive youth hovered round the booths and sideshows, the majority enjoying themselves at some expense in the medicine-man's encampment.
As Rosalie ran towards the crowd she turned a wistful glance to the tailor-shop.

Not a sign of life there! She imagined M'sieu' to be at Vadrome Mountain, until, glancing round the crowd at the quack-doctor's wagon, she saw Jo Portugais gloomily watching the travelling tinker of human bodies.

Evidently M'sieu' was not at Vadrome Mountain.
He was not far from her.

At the side of the road, under a huge maple-tree with wide-spreading branches, Charley stood and watched John Brown performing behind the flaring oil-lights stuck on poles round his wagon, his hat now on, now off; now singing a comic song in English---'I found Y' in de Honeysuckle Paitch;' now a French chanson--'En Revenant de St.Alban;' now treating a stiff neck or a bent back, or giving momentary help to the palsy of an old man, or again making a speech.
Charley was in touch again with the old life, but in a kind of fantasy only--a staring, high-coloured dream.

This man--John Brown--had gone down before his old ironical questioning, had been, indirectly, the means of disgracing his name.