And see, now. One of the Jews in the shop across the street has observed him. Now two stand together and scrutinize him; and now there are three, looking and smiling. Plainly, they recognize him. One starts to come across, but on that instant the quiet of the hamlet is broken by a sound of galloping hoofs. Bonaventure stands still. How sudden is this change! He is not noticed now; every thing is in the highest animation. There are loud calls and outcries; children are shouting and running, and women's heads are thrust out of doors and windows. Horsemen come dashing into the village around through the lanes and up the street. Look! they wheel, they rein up, they throw themselves from the rattling saddles; they leave the big wooden stirrups swinging and the little unkempt ponies shaking themselves, and rush into the _boutique de_ Monsieur Lichtenstein, and are talking like mad and decking themselves out on hats and shoulders with ribbons in all colors of the rainbow! Suddenly they shout, all together, in answer to a shout outside. More horsemen appear. Lichtenstein's store belches all its population. "_La calege! La calege!_" The caleche is coming! Something, he knows not what, makes Bonaventure tremble. "Madame," he says in French to a chattering woman who has just run out of her door, and is standing near him tying a red Madras kerchief on her head as she prattles to a girl,--"madame, what wedding is this?" "_C'est la noce a_ Zosephine," she replies, without looking at him, and goes straight on telling her companion how fifty dollars has been paid for the Pope's dispensation, because the bridal pair are first cousins. Bonaventure moves back and leans against a paling fence, pallid and faint. But there is no time to notice him--look, look! Some women on horseback come trotting into the street. Cheers! cheers! and in a moment louder cheers yet--the caleche with the bride and groom and another with the parents have come. Throw open the church door! Horsemen alight, horsewomen descend; down, also, come they that were in the caleche. Look, Bonaventure! They form by twos--forward--in they go. "Hats off, gentlemen! Don't forget the rule!--Now--silence! softly, softly; speak low--or speak not at all; sh-sh! Silence! The pair are kneeling. Hush-sh! Frown down that little buzz about the door! Sh-sh!" Bonaventure has rushed in with the crowd. He cannot see the kneeling pair; but there is the cure standing over them and performing the holy rite. The priest stops--he has seen Bonaventure! He stammers, and then he goes on. Here beside Bonaventure is a girl so absorbed in the scene that she thinks she is speaking to her brother, when presently she says to the haggard young stranger, letting herself down from her tiptoes and drawing a long breath: "_La sarimonie est fait._" It is true; the ceremony is ended. She rises on tiptoe again to see the new couple sign the papers.