As always before, she kissed her son on the forehead, without blushing. * * * * * Thus passed the last fortnight of December. Upon the eve of the new year, David, Marie, and her son were preparing to go out, in order to carry a few last remembrances to their dependents, when Marguerite handed her mistress a letter which the express had just brought. At the sight of the handwriting, Marie could not hide her surprise and fear. This letter was from M. Bastien, who wrote as follows: "MADAME, MY WIFE (with whom I am not at all satisfied):--My business in Berri has ended sooner than I anticipated. I am now at Pont Brillant, with my boon companion, Bridou, occupied in verifying accounts. We will leave soon for the farm, where Bridou will stay a few days with me, in order to assist me in estimating the indemnity due me, out of the sum allotted to the sufferers from the overflow, because we must get some good out of so much evil. "We will arrive in time for dinner. "Take care to have a leg of mutton with an abundance of clove of garlic in the best style, and some fine cabbage soup, as I am fond of it, with plenty of hot salted pork, and plenty of Blois sausage; attend especially to that, if you please. "_Nota bene._ I shall arrive in a very bad humour, and very much disposed to box my son's ears, in case his fits of melancholy and coxcomb airs are not at an end. "Your husband, who has no desire to laugh, "JACQUES BASTIEN. "P. S. Bridou is like me; he likes cheese that can walk alone. Tell Marguerite to provide it, and do you attend to it." Madame Bastien had not recovered from the surprise and regret produced by the unexpected announcement of M. Bastien's return, when she was drawn from her unhappy reflections by a tumultuous and constantly increasing excitement that she heard outside. One would have declared that an assemblage had surrounded the house. Suddenly Marguerite entered, running, her eyes sparkling with joy, as she cried: "Ah, madame! come,--come and see!" Marie, more and more astonished, automatically followed the servant. CHAPTER XXXII. The weather was clear, the winter sun radiant. Marie Bastien, as she went out on the rustic porch, built above the front door of the house, saw about one hundred persons, men, women, and children, almost all clothed in coarse, but new and warm garments, filing in order, and ranging themselves behind the little garden. This procession was ended by a cart ornamented with branches of fir, on which was placed what was called by the country people, a ferry-boat--a little flat boat, resembling the one Frederick and David so bravely used during the overflow. Behind the cart, which stopped at the garden gate, came an empty open carriage, drawn by four horses, and mounted by two postilions in the livery of Pont Brillant; two footmen were seated behind.