We walked down to the Mairie, where the Mayor and his Adjoint were waiting for us; they conducted us to a large room upstairs where there was a table with champagne bottles, glasses and a big brioche.  As soon as we had taken our places at the top of the room, the Pompiers and Municipal Council trouped in and Francis made quite a pretty little speech.  It was the first time I had ever heard him speak in public; he did it very well, was not at all shy.  Then there was a pause—­the Mayor filled a glass of champagne, handed it to me, took one himself and we “trinque’d” solemnly.  Still there seemed a little hitch, no one else took any and there was an air of expectancy.  I made a sign to the school-master, who was also the Adjoint, and he explained to me in a low voice that he thought it would give great pleasure if I would shake hands and trinquer with all the Pompiers.  So I asked to have all the glasses filled and made the round, shaking hands with every one.

Some of them were very shy, could hardly make up their minds to put out their big, rough hands; some of the old ones were very talkative:  “C’est moi qui suis Jacques, Madame, j’ai nettoye le premier fusil de M. Francis.”  Another in a great hurry to get to me:  “C’est moi qui ai remasse le premier lievre de M. Francis,” etc.  I remember the “premier lievre” quite well; Francis carried it home himself and dashed into his father’s study swinging the poor beast by its long ears, the blood dripping from a hole in its neck.  It was difficult to scold, the child was so enchanted, even old Ferdinand did not grumble but came to the rescue at once with brushes and “savon noir.”

The wine had loosened the tongues and made every one more at ease.  I asked that Hubert (our coachman who had been in W.’s service for thirty-one years) should be invited to come up and have a glass of champagne.  He knew everybody, having driven W. about in his dog-cart all over the country.  He was delighted to take part in the fete and made his little speech, saying he had seen Monsieur Francis when he was only a few hours old, and that he had grown since—­which joke was received with great applause.

Then some of the young men went off with Francis to look at the automobile, a great novelty at that time.  We went out and talked to the women who were waiting in the street.  Every one looked smiling and pleased to see us; the men all formed again in procession and escorted us to the end of the street, the whole village naturally following.  They stopped at the foot of the hill, giving us a ringing cheer as we left.

* * * * *

I never but once saw the whole neighbourhood assembled—­when the only son of the Baron de L. married.  The Baron and his wife were very good specimens of provincial noblesse.  He was a tall, heavily-built man, square-shouldered, with the weather-beaten complexion of a man who spent all his days riding about his fields and woods; a pleasant, jovial manner, quite the type of the country gentleman.