g her head and extending her
chin, just like a cat.

"There!" she stammered, "there under the ear--that tickles me. Oh! that
is nice!"

They had both forgotten La Queue. Fortunately the Emperor was on guard.
He pointed them out to the Abbe.

"Look there, Cure--it would be better to marry them."

"Morals would gain thereby," declared the priest sententiously.

And he charged himself with the matter for the morrow. 'Twas he himself
that would speak to La Queue. Meanwhile La Queue had drunk so much that
the Emperor and the Cure were forced to carry him home. On the way they
tried to reason with him on the subject of his daughter; but they could
draw from him nothing but growls. Behind them, in the untroubled night,
Delphin led Margot home.

The next day by four o'clock the "Zephir" and the "Baleine" had already
caught seven casks. At six o'clock the "Zephir" caught two more. That
made nine.

Then Coqueville feted Sunday. It was the seventh day that it had been
drunk. And the fete was complete--a fete such as no one had ever seen,
and which no one will ever see again. Speak of it in Lower Normandy, and
they will tell you with laughter, "Ah! yes, the fete at Coqueville!"

V

In the mean while, since the Tuesday, M. Mouchel had been surprised at
not seeing either Rouget or La Queue arrive at Grandport. What the devil
could those fellows be doing? The sea was fine, the fishing ought to be
splendid. Very possibly they wished to bring a whole load of soles and
lobsters in all at once. And he was patient until the Wednesday.

Wednesday, M. Mouchel was angry. You must know that the Widow Dufeu was
not a commodious person. She was a woman who in a flash came to high
words. Although he was a handsome fellow, blond and powerful, he
trembled before her, especially since he had dreams of marrying her,
always with little attentions, free to subdue her with a slap if he ever
became her master. Well, that Wednesday morning the Widow Dufeu stormed,
complaining that the bundles were no longer forwarded, that the sea
failed; and she accused him of running after the girls of the coast
instead of busying himself with the whiting and the mackerel which
ought to be yielding in abundance. M. Mouchel, vexed, fell back on
Coqueville's singular breach of honor. For a moment surprise calmed
the Widow Dufeu. What was Coqueville dreaming about? Never had it so
conducted itself before. But she declared immediately that she had
nothing