That evening the boulevard had a strange look. One felt that something unusually grave was going to happen. An enormous crowd, serious and anxious, overflowed the pavement, spreading on to the road, which the Paris police, placed at intervals, with great trouble kept free. Before the restaurants, the terraces disproportionately enlarged by the placing of chairs and tables, made the obstruction more complete and rendered circulation impossible. Now and again an onlooker impatiently stood upon his chair for an instant--the time that one could beg him to get down. Evidently all were waiting; one felt without doubt that between the two pavements upon the protected route something was going to pass. Having found a table with great difficulty and paid a large price for it, Angèle and Tityrus installed themselves in front of two glasses of beer and asked the waiter: --What are they all waiting for? --Where does your lordship come from? said the waiter. Does not your lordship know that every one is waiting to see Meliboeus? He will pass by between 5 and 6 ... and there--listen: I believe one can already hear his flute. From the depths of the boulevard the frail notes of a pipe were heard. The crowd thrilled with still greater attention. The sound increased, came nearer, grew louder and louder. --Oh, how it moves me! said Angèle. The setting sun soon threw its rays from one end of the boulevard to the other. And, as if issuing from the splendour of the setting sun, Meliboeus was at last seen advancing--preceded by the simple sound of his flute. At first nothing could be clearly distinguished but his figure, but when he drew nearer: --Oh, how charming he is! said Angèle. In the meantime Meliboeus as he arrived opposite Tityrus, ceased to play his flute, stopped suddenly, saw Angèle, and every one realized that he was naked. Oh! said Angèle, leaning upon Tityrus, how beautiful he is! what strong thighs he has! His playing is adorable! Tityrus felt a little uncomfortable. --Ask him where he is going, said Angèle. --Where are you going? questioned Tityrus. Meliboeus replied:--Eo Romam. --What does he say? asked Angèle. Tityrus:--You would not understand, my dear. --But you can explain it to me, said Angèle. --Romam, insisted Meliboeus.... Urbem quam dicunt Romam. Angèle:--Oh, it sounds delicious! What does it mean? Tityrus:--But my dear Angèle, I assure you it is not so delightful as it sounds; it means quite simply that he is going to Rome. --Rome! said Angèle dreamily. Oh, I should love so much to see Rome! Meliboeus, resuming his flute, once more began to play his primæval melody, and at the sound, Angèle, in a passion of excitement, raised herself, stood up, drew near; and as Meliboeus’ arm was bent to her hand, she took it, and thus the two together went on their way along the boulevard; further, further they went, gradually vanished from sight, and disappeared into the finality of the twilit dusk.