The shields on both carriage-doors were finished the next morning about eleven o'clock. Everyone came to look at the work now it was done, and the carriage was drawn out of the coach-house that they might the better judge of the effect. The design was pronounced perfect, and Bataille received a great many compliments before he strapped his box on his back and went off again; the baron, his wife, Jeanne and Julien all agreed that the painter was a man of great talent, and would, no doubt, have become an artist, if circumstances had permitted. For the sake of economy, Julien had accomplished some reforms which brought with them the need of fresh arrangements. The old coachman now performed the duties of gardener, the vicomte himself undertaking to drive, and as he was obliged to have someone to hold the horses when the family went to make a visit, he had made a groom of a young cowherd named Marius. The horses had been sold to do away with the expense of their keep, so he had introduced a clause in Couillard's and Martin's leases by which the two farmers bound themselves to each provide a horse once a month, on whatever day the vicomte chose. When the day came the Couillards produced a big, raw-boned, yellowish horse, and the Martins a little, white, long-haired nag; the two horses were harnessed, and Marius, buried in an old livery of Simon's, brought the carriage round to the door. Julien, who was in his best clothes, would have looked a little like his old, elegant self, if his long beard had not made him look common. He inspected the horses, the carriage, and the little groom, and thought they looked very well, the only thing of any importance in his eyes being the new coat-of-arms. The baroness came downstairs on her husband's arm, got in, and had some cushions put behind her back; then came Jeanne. She laughed first at the strange pair of horses, and her laughter increased when she saw Marius with his face buried under his cockaded hat (which his nose alone prevented from slipping down to his chin), and his hands lost in his ample sleeves, and the skirts of his coat coming right down to his feet, which were encased in enormous boots; but when she saw him obliged to throw his head right back before he could see anything, and raise his knee at each step as though he were going to take a river in his stride, and move like a blind man when he had an order given him, she gave a shout of laughter. The baron turned round, looked for a moment at the little fellow who stood looking so confused in his big clothes, and then he too was overcome with laughter, and, hardly able to speak, called out to his wife: "Lo-lo-look at Ma-Marius! Does-doesn't he look fun-funny?" The baroness leaned out of the carriage-window, and, catching sight of Marius, she was shaken by such a fit of laughter that the carriage moved up and down on its springs as if it were jolting over some deep ruts.