Occasionally it would also befall--the devil ever is at his wicked work--that at some of these anniversary celebrations, when the women and maids were admitted to the otherwise forbidden precincts of the monastery, some monk laborer discovered, by the impression produced upon him by some pretty girl, that his fondness for the austere freedom of celibacy was rather premature. On such occasions the swain would open his heart to Loysik. The latter always insisted upon three months of reflection on the part of the brother, and in the event of his persisting in his conjugal vocation Loysik was speedily seen strolling into the village leaning upon his cane. There he would converse with the parents of the maid upon the advisability of the match; and it rarely happened but that a few months later the colony numbered one more household and the community one brother less, while Loysik would say: "Here is one more evidence of my being right in not accepting eternal vows from my monks." The preparations for the reception had long been finished in the interior of the monastery, and the sun was on the point of setting when the laborer monks heard a loud noise outside. The whole colony was arriving. At the head of the crowd marched Ronan and the Master of the Hounds, Odille and the Bishopess. They were the four oldest inhabitants of the Valley. A few old Vagres, but younger than these followed behind them; then came the children, the grandchildren, the great-grandchildren of that once so disorderly and so redoubted Vagrery. Informed of the approach of his friends, Loysik stepped to the gate of the monastery to receive them. Like all the other brothers of the community, the venerable monk was clad in a robe of coarse brown wool, held around his waist by a leather belt. His head was now completely bald; his long snow-white beard fell upon his chest; his bearing was still erect, his eyes clear, although he was beyond eighty; only his venerable hands were slightly agitated by a tremor. The crowd halted; Ronan approached, took his brother's hand, and addressed to him these words: "Loysik, it is to-day fifty-one years ago that a troop of determined Vagres stood awaiting your arrival on the border of Burgundy. You came to us; you spoke wise words to us; you preached to us the virile virtues of labor and of the domestic hearth; and you thereupon put us in condition to put those virtues into practice by offering to our troop the free enjoyment of this valley. A year later, that is now fifty years ago, our budding colony celebrated the first anniversary of its foundation in this region; and to-day we come--we, our children and the children of our children--once again to say to you through my mouth: 'We are happy, thanks to you, brother; eternal gratitude and friendship to Loysik!'" "Yes, yes!" echoed the crowd. "Eternal acknowledgment to Loysik--respect and gratitude for our friend, our good father!"