d,
just where it had fallen, around the nine casks, completely empty.

Yes, all Coqueville was snoring there; I hear the children, the women,
the old people, and the men. Not one was on his feet. There were some on
their stomachs, there were some on their backs; others held themselves
_en chien de fusils_ {3} As one makes his bed so must one lie on it.
And the fellows found themselves, happen what may, scattered in their
drunkenness like a handful of leaves driven by the wind. The men
had rolled over, heads lower than heels. It was a scene full of
good-fellowship; a dormitory in the open air; honest family folk taking
their ease; for where there is care, there is no pleasure.

3 Primed for the event

It was just at the new moon. Coqueville, thinking it had blown out its
candle, had abandoned itself to the darkness. Then the day dawned;
and now the sun was flaming, a sun which fell perpendicularly on the
sleepers, powerless to make them open their eyelids. They slept rudely,
all their faces beaming with the fine innocence of drunkards. The hens
at early morning must have strayed down to peck at the casks, for they
were drunk; they, too, sleeping on the sands. There were also five cats
and five dogs, their paws in the air, drunk from licking the glasses
glistening with sugar.

For a moment M. Mouchel walked about among the sleepers, taking care not
to step on any of them. He understood, for at Grandport they, too, had
received casks from the wreck of the English ship. All his wrath left
him. What a touching and moral spectacle! Coqueville reconciled,
the Mahes and the Floches sleeping together! With the last glass the
deadliest enemies had embraced. Tupain and Fouasse lay there snoring,
hand in hand, like brothers, incapable of coming to dispute a legacy. As
to the Rouget household, it offered a still more amiable picture, Marie
slept between Rouget and Brisemotte, as much as to say that henceforth
they were to live thus, happy, all the three.

But one group especially exhibited a scene of family tenderness. It was
Delphin and Margot; one on the neck of the other, they slept cheek to
cheek, their lips still opened for a kiss. At their feet the Emperor,
sleeping crosswise, guarded them. Above them La Queue snored like
a father satisfied at having settled his daughter, while the Abbe
Radiguet, fallen there like the others, with arms outspread, seemed to
bless them. In her sleep Margot still extended her rosy muzzl