"Give 'un a cheer, boys."
"Hip, hip, hoor-roar!"
The sound burst upon the clear sky in a deafening peal. The stranger paused and looked confused.
"Dear me!" he murmured to himself, "the population here seems to be excited about something—and, bless my soul, what a lot of it there is!"
He might well say so. Along the road, arms, sticks, baskets, and handkerchiefs were frantically waving; men shouting and children hurrahing with might and main. Windows were flung up; heads protruded; flags waved in frenzied welcome. The tumult was stupendous. There was not a man, woman, or child in Troy but felt the demonstration must be hearty, and determined to make it a success.
"What can have caused this riot?"
The stranger paused with a half-timid air, but after a while resumed his walk. The shouts broke out again, and louder than ever.
"Welcome, welcome to Troy! Hooroar! One more, lads! Hooroar!" and all the handkerchiefs waved anew.
"Bless my soul, what is the matter?"
Then suddenly he became aware that all this frantic display was meant for him. How he first learnt it he could never afterwards explain, but the shock of it brought a deathly faintness.