“Sing us something of Béranger’s.” And so, after a moment’s hesitation, she began Béranger’s song, “The Grandmother,” in her worn-out voice:
Ma grand’mère, un soir à sa fête,
De vin pur ayant bu deux doigts,
Nous disait, en branlant la tête:
Que d’amoureux j’eus autrefois!
Combien je regrette
Mon bras si dodu,
Ma jambe bien faite,
Et le temps perdu!
And the girls in chorus, led by Madame, repeated the refrain:
Combien je regrette
Mon bras si dodu,
Ma jambe bien faite,
Et le temps perdu!
“That’s fine!” declared Rivet, carried away by the rhythm, and Rosa went on at once:
Quoi, maman, vous n’étiez pas sage?
—Non, vraiment! et de mes appas,
Seule, à quinze ans, j’appris l’usage,
Car la nuit, je ne dormais pas.
They all shouted the refrain to every verse, while Rivet beat time on the shafts with his foot, and on the horse’s back with the reins, who, as if he himself were carried away by the rhythm, broke into a wild gallop, and threw all the women in a heap, one on the top of the other, on the bottom of the conveyance.
They got up, laughing wildly, and the song went on, shouted at the top of their voices, beneath the burning sky, among the ripening grain, to the rapid gallop of the little horse, who set off every time the refrain was sung, and galloped a hundred yards, to their great delight, while occasionally a stone breaker by the roadside sat up and looked at the wild and shouting female load through his wire spectacles.
When they got out at the station, the carpenter said:
“I am sorry you are going; we might have had some fun together.” But Madame replied very sensibly: “Everything has its right time, and we cannot always be enjoying ourselves.” And then he had a sudden inspiration:
“Look here, I will come and see you at Fécamp next month.” And he gave a knowing look, with a bright and roguish eye.
“Come,” Madame said, “you must be sensible; you may come if you like, but you are not to be up to any of your tricks.”
He did not reply, and as they heard the whistle of the train, he immediately began to kiss them all. When he came to Rosa’s turn, he tried to get to her mouth, which she, however, smiling with her lips closed, turned away from him each time by a rapid movement of her head to one side. He held her in his arms, but he could not attain his object, as his large whip, which he was holding in his hand and waving behind the girl’s back in desperation, interfered with his efforts.
“Passengers for Rouen, take your seats, please!” a guard cried, and they got in. There was a slight whistle, followed by a loud whistle, from the engine, which noisily puffed out its first jet of steam, while the wheels began to turn a little, with a visible effort, and Rivet left the station and went to the gate by the side of the line to get another look at Rosa, and as the carriage full of human merchandise passed him, he began to crack his whip and to jump, while he sang at the top of his voice:
Combien je regrette
Mon bras si dodu,
Ma jambe bien faite,
Et le temps perdu!
And then he watched a white pocket-handkerchief, which somebody was waving, as it disappeared in the distance.
Part III
They slept the peaceful sleep of a quiet conscience, until they got to Rouen, and when they returned to the house, refreshed and rested, Madame could not help saying:
“It was all very well, but I was already longing to get home.”
They hurried over their supper, and then, when they had put on their professional costume, waited for their usual customers, and the little coloured lamp outside the door told the passersby that the flock had returned to the fold, and in a moment the news spread, nobody knew how or by whom. Monsieur Phillippe, the banker’s son, even carried his forgetfulness so far, as to send a special messenger to Monsieur Tournevau, who was confined to the bosom of his family.
The fish-curer used every Sunday to have several cousins to dinner, and they were having coffee, when a man came in with a letter in his hand. Monsieur Tournevau was much excited, he opened the envelope and grew pale; it only contained these words in pencil:
“The cargo of cod has been found; the ship has come into port; good business for you. Come immediately.”
He felt in his pockets, gave the messenger twopence, and suddenly blushing to his ears, he said: “I must go out.” He handed his wife the laconic and mysterious note, rang the bell, and when the servant came in, he asked her to bring him his hat and overcoat immediately. As soon as he was in the street, he began to run, and the way seemed to him to be twice as long as usual, his impatience was so great.
Madame Tellier’s establishment had put on quite a holiday look. On the ground floor, a number of sailors were making a deafening noise, and Louise and Flora drank with one and the other, so as to merit their name of the two Pumps more than ever. They were being called for everywhere at once; already they were not able to cope with business, and the night bid fair to be a very busy one for them.
The circle in the upstairs room was complete by nine o’clock. Monsieur Vasse, the Judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, Madame’s usual, but Platonic wooer, was talking to her in a corner, in a low voice,
