It was flung noisily open, revealing Mathurin standing in the full glare of the lamplight. The appearance of a ghost could not have produced greater effect. The noise ceased abruptly, the girls, frightened, ran away or clustered in groups against the walls. In their astonishment, many of the lads took off their hats, which they had kept on while dancing; farmers' wives half rose from the chairs on which they were sitting. Scarcely did they recognise the new-comer at such an hour and place. Tired and crimsoned from his exertions, affected by the hot air of the room, but proud of the stupefaction he was causing, Mathurin stood erect on his crutches, and, laughing in his tawny beard, called out in a stentorian voice: "How do you do, all of you!" Then, addressing the group of girls who were retreating to the other end of the room: "Who will dance a round with me, my beauties? Why do you look at me like that? I am not a ghost. I have brought my brother, handsome Driot, to dance _vis-à-vis_ with me." And they saw him approach, followed by the youngest son of La Fromentière, tall and slim, his hand at his forehead in military salute. Then the room resounded with merry laughter, questions, and greetings; the girls ran towards them as precipitately as they had before retreated; men's hands were extended on all sides. Old Gauvrit's loud voice drowned all others, as, already somewhat heated with wine, he called out from an inner room: "The handsomest girl to dance with Mathurin! the handsomest! Let her show herself!" It was not in obedience to her father that Félicité Gauvrit came forward. But, though for an instant disconcerted by this abrupt entry before all these men and women, she realised that she must put a bold face on it, and going up to Mathurin Lumineau, her black eyes looking into his, she threw her arms round his neck and embraced him. "I embrace him," she said, "because he has more courage than most of the lads in the parish. It was I who invited him!" Stupefied, intoxicated by the memories awakened in him, Mathurin once more shrank away. They saw him grow livid, and, turning on his crutches, force a path through the group of men on his left, with: "Make way, make way, lads. I want to sit down!" He found a place in the second room, beside some of the elder men, old Gauvrit among them; who rising, poured him out a bumper of the white wine of Sallertaine, in token of welcome. Still quite pale, Mathurin lifted the glass with the customary formula, "I drink to you all with cordiality and love!" Soon he appeared to be forgotten, and dancing was resumed.