One man, only, was still wandering about, Monsieur Tournevau, the fish curer, who was vexed at having to wait until the next Saturday, and he hoped for something to turn up, he did not know what; but he was exasperated at the police for thus allowing an establishment of such public utility, which they had under their control, to be thus closed.

He went back to it, and examined the walls, and trying to find out the reason, and on the shutter he saw a notice stuck up, so he struck a wax vesta, and read the following in a large, uneven hand; “Closed on account of the Confirmation.”

Then he went away, as he saw it was useless to remain, and left the drunken man lying on the pavement fast asleep, outside that inhospitable door.

The next day, all the regular customers, one after the other, found some reason for going through the street with a bundle of papers under their arm, to keep them in countenance, and with a furtive glance they all read that mysterious notice: 

Closed on account of the Confirmation.

PART II

Madame had a brother, who was a carpenter in their native place, Virville, in the department of Eure.  When Madame had still kept the inn at Yvetot, she had stood god-mother to that brother’s daughter, who had received the name of Constance, Constance Rivet; she herself being a Rivet on her father’s side.  The carpenter, who knew that his sister was in a good position, did not lose sight of her, although they did not meet often, for they were both kept at home by their occupations, and lived a long way from each other.  But as the girl was twelve years old, and going to be confirmed, he seized that opportunity for writing to his sister, and asking her to come and be present at the ceremony.  Their old parents were dead, and as she could not well refuse, she accepted the invitation.  Her brother, whose name was Joseph, hoped that by dint of showing his sister attentions, she might be induced to make her will in the girl’s favor, as she had no children of her own.

His sister’s occupation did not trouble his scruples in the least, and, besides, nobody knew anything about it at Virville.  When they spoke of her, they only said:  “Madame Tellier is living at Fecamp,” which might mean that she was living on her own private income.  It was quite twenty leagues from Fecamp to Virville, and for a peasant, twenty leagues on land are more than is crossing the ocean to an educated person.  The people at Virville had never been further than Rouen, and nothing attracted the people from Fecamp to a village of five hundred houses, in the middle of a plain, and situated in another department, and, at any rate, nothing was known about her business.

But the Confirmation was coming on, and Madame was in great embarrassment.  She had no under mistress, and did not at all care to leave her house, even for a day, for all the rivalries between the girls upstairs and those downstairs, would infallibly break out; no doubt Frederic would get drunk, and when he was in that state he would knock anybody down for a mere word.  At last, however, she made up her mind to take them all with her, with the exception of the man, to whom she gave a holiday, until the next day but one.