Perrine told about their life before they lost all their money; then about their travels through the various countries and the wanderings over the mountains; then of her father's illness and his death, and how she and her sick mother journeyed through France with the hope that they could reach Maraucourt in time before the sick woman died. While they were talking they could hear vague sounds outside in the garden. "What is the matter out there?" asked M. Vulfran. Perrine went to the window. The lawns and drive were black with a crowd of men, women and children. They were dressed in their Sunday clothes; many of them carried banners and flags. This crowd, between six and seven thousand people, reached outside the grounds to the public park, and the murmur of their voices had reached the ears of the blind man and had turned his attention from Perrine's story, great though it was. "What is it?" he asked. "It is your birthday today," said Perrine, smiling, "and all your men are here to celebrate it and to thank you for all you have done for them and their families." "Oh!..." The blind man walked to the window as though he could see them. He was recognized and a murmur ran through the crowd. "_Mon Dieu_," he murmured, "how terrible they would be if they were against us." For the first time he realized the strength of the masses which he controlled. "Yes," said Perrine, "but they are with us because we are with them." "Yes, little girl, and it is all due to you," he replied. "This is very different from the day when the service for your dear father was held in that empty church." "Yes, they are all here now," said Perrine, "and this is the Order of the Day, grandpapa dear: I am to guide you to the steps exactly at two o'clock. From there everyone will be able to see you. A man representing each village where you have your factories will come up the steps, and fatherly old Gathoye in the name of all is to make a speech." At this moment the clock struck two. "Now give me your hand, grandpapa, dear," said Perrine. They reached the top of the steps and a great cheer broke out. Then the dear old Gathoye, who was the oldest employé, came forward alone. He was followed by the five delegates. Ten times the old man had been made to go over his speech that morning. "Monsieur Vulfran, sir," he began, "it is to wish you ... it is to congratulate you ... to congratulate you on...." Here he stopped short and began gesticulating with his hands, and the crowd, who saw his eloquent gestures, thought that he making an elaborate speech. After some vain efforts, during which he scratched his head several times, he said: "This is how it is: I had a fine speech all ready, but I've gone and forgot all I got to say. I had to congratulate you and thank you in the name of all from the bottom of our hearts...." He raised his hand solemnly. "I swear that's so on the faith of your oldest employé, Gathoye."