"Oh!" cried Velleda Lebrenn, who had watched her betrothed with sparkling eyes as he spoke. "How happy one must feel to live in times like these! What great and noble things are we not about to witness; not so, father?" "To doubt it, my children, would be to deny the onward march, the constant progress of humanity," answered Lebrenn. "Never yet did mankind retrogress." "May the good God hear you, Monsieur Lebrenn," put in father Morin. "Although I am quite old, I expect to see a good part of that beautiful picture. To want more than that, one must be quite a glutton," added the old man naïvely, and casting a tender look upon the merchant's daughter. "Could I, after that, still have anything to wish for, now that I know that this good and beautiful girl is to be the wife of my grandson? Is he not now a member of a family of good people? The daughter is worthy of the mother, the son is worthy of the father. Zounds! When one has seen all that, and is as old as I am, there is nothing more that the heart can wish for--one may take his leave with a contented mind." "Take your leave, good father?" said Madam Lebrenn, taking and warming in her own one of the trembling hands of the old man. "And what about those who remain behind and love you?" "And who will feel doubly happy," added Velleda embracing the grandfather, "if you remain to witness their happiness." "And who desire to render homage in you, good father, and for many long years, to labor, to courage, and to a big good heart!" exclaimed Sacrovir in accents of respectful deference, while the old man, more and more moved, carried his tremulous and venerable hands to his eyes. "Oh! Do you imagine, Monsieur Morin," asked the merchant, smiling, "that you are not our 'good grandfather' as well? Do you imagine you do not belong to us, as well as to our dear George? As if our affections were not his own, and his own ours!" "My God! My God!" exclaimed the old man, so moved with delight that tears filled his eyes. "What can I say to all that? It is too much--too much--all I can say is thanks, and weep. George, you who can talk, speak for me, do!" "That is easy enough for you to say, grandfather," replied George, no less moved than Monsieur Morin. "Father!" suddenly cried Sacrovir, stepping to the window. "Look! Look!" And he added with exaltation: "Oh, you brave and generous people of all peoples!" At the call of the young man all rushed to the window. The funeral ceremony being over, the boulevard was now free. At the head of a long procession of workingmen, there marched four members of their class carrying on their shoulders a species of shield decked with ribbons, in the middle of which a small casket of white wood was placed. Immediately behind followed a banner bearing the inscription: LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC! LIBERTY--EQUALITY--FRATERNITY. AN OFFERING TO THE FATHERLAND. The people who lined the street shouted in transports of joy: "Long live the Republic!"