Only at that moment did the blacksmith notice the pallor of Tina's face, and the traces of recent tears in her eyes. Turning to the grandmother, uneasy and even alarmed, he inquired: "Mother! What has happened? The girl has been weeping. She weeps--and on such a day as this! What is the cause of her grief?" "Good father!" answered Tina to whose plump and chaste cheeks the roses were rapidly returning, "I was crazy! A sad presage oppressed me this morning, despite myself. The procession was delayed so long in coming--I thought Nominoë had deserted me!" "Fire and flames!" cried the blacksmith, his face assuming an ominous appearance. "Such an outrage!" But immediately interrupting himself he addressed his daughter in a tone of affectionate reproof: "It is you, dear child, who, surely without intending it, wronged Nominoë and his father, the husband of your mother's sister, in believing them capable of breaking faith." "Friend Tankeru, they are waiting for you!" said one of the peasants, stepping into the room. "The Baz-valan has alighted. He has knocked twice at the house door. Cousin Madok, in his capacity of 'Brotaer,' is going to answer the summons of Paskou the Long. The one is as pert as the other. The answer will match the demand." "Quick, quick, little Tina!" said the grandmother. "Let me adjust the ribbons in your hair. The Brotaer will call for you in a minute. Come! Make haste! We must be ready when called!" "Oh! Grandma," said Tina, bending to her grandmother her virginal forehead, "the Brotaer will not have to call me twice!" And radiant with joy and pink with agitation, she raised to heaven her limpid eyes, that a moment before were veiled in sadness, but now shone sweetly, like a cornflower glistening in the morning dew. When the nuptial procession was near the house of the bride it stopped. The guests alighted from their rustic wagons and formed a circle. Paskou the Long leaped to the ground, entrusted his mount to one of his apprentices who officiated as a page, and holding in his hand his fresh sprig of broom, and swaying his long body with the conscious importance of a personage upon whom all eyes are centered, the Baz-valan stepped alone to the house door, which was kept closed, and knocked. The door opened; a relative of Tankeru, a miller named Madok, a pert and jolly fellow, appeared at the threshold. He was to fill the office of "Brotaer," or god-father to the bride, and meet and answer the Baz-valan, the bridegroom's messenger. Paskou the Long began his oration, modulating his voice to a slow rythm, that imparted to his sentences the sound of a measured recitative: "In the name of the Lord God--peace to this house, and blessings upon its roof-tree--and greater bliss than I enjoy on earth."