* The beret is the Pyreneean tam-o’-shanter.

Then, at a short distance in the rear, came the chariot, the good old family wagon, which was now crowded.  According to the prearranged programme it was Gervais who held the ribbons, with Claire beside him.  The two strong horses trotted on in their usual leisurely fashion, in spite of all the gay whip-cracking of their driver, who also wished to contribute to the music.  Inside there were now seven people for six places, for if the three children were small, they were at the same time so restless that they fully took up their share of room.  First, face to face, there were Ambroise and Andree, the betrothed couple who were being honored by this glorious welcome.  Then, also face to face, there were the high and mighty rulers of the region, Mathieu and Marianne, the latter of whom kept little Nicolas, the last prince of the line, on her knees, he braying the while like a little donkey, because he felt so pleased.  Then the last places were occupied by the rulers’ granddaughter and grandson, Mademoiselle Berthe and Monsieur Christophe, who were as yet unable to walk long distances.  And the chariot rolled on with much majesty, albeit that for fear of the rain the curtains of stout white linen had already been half-drawn, thus giving the vehicle, at a distance, somewhat of the aspect of a miller’s van.

Further back yet, as a sort of rear-guard, was a group on foot, composed of Blaise, Denis, Madame Desvignes, and her daughters Charlotte and Marthe.  They had absolutely refused to take a fly, finding it more pleasant to walk the mile and a half which separated Chantebled from Janville.  If the rain should fall, they would manage to find shelter somewhere.  Besides, Rose had declared that a suite on foot was absolutely necessary to give the procession its full significance.  Those five last comers would represent the multitude, the great concourse of people which follows sovereigns and acclaims them.  Or else they might be the necessary guard, the men-at-arms, who watched for the purpose of foiling a possible attack from some felon neighbor.  At the same time it unfortunately happened that worthy Madame Desvignes could not walk very fast, so that the rear-guard was soon distanced, to such a degree indeed that it became merely a little lost group, far away.

Still this did not disconcert Rose, but rather made her laugh the more.  At the first bend of the road she turned her head, and when she saw her rear-guard more than three hundred yards away she raised cries of admiration.  “Oh! just look, Frederic!  What an interminable procession!  What a deal of room we take up!  The cortege is becoming longer and longer, and the road won’t be long enough for it very soon.”

Then, as the three maids of honor and the page began to jeer impertinently, “just try to be respectful,” she said.  “Count a little.  There are six of us forming the vanguard.  In the chariot there are nine, and six and nine make fifteen.  Add to them the five of the rear-guard, and we have twenty.  Wherever else is such a family seen?  Why, the rabbits who watch us pass are mute with stupor and humiliation.”