The others were just going to retire, when the noisy band of sailors reappeared at the end of the street.  The French sailors were shouting the “Marseillaise,” and the Englishmen “Rule Britannia.”  There was a general lurching against the wall, and then the drunken fellows went on their way toward the quay, where a fight broke out between the two nations, in the course of which an Englishman had his arm broken and a Frenchman his nose split.

The drunken man who had waited outside the door, was crying by that time, as drunken men and children cry when they are vexed, and the others went away.  By degrees, calm was restored in the noisy town; here and there, at moments, the distant sound of voices could be heard, and then died away in the distance.

One man only was still wandering about, Monsieur Tournevau, the fish curer, who was annoyed at having to wait until the following Saturday, and he hoped something would turn up, he did not know what; but he was exasperated at the police for thus allowing an establishment of such public utility, which they had under their control, to be closed.

He went back to it and examined the walls, trying to find out some reason, and on the shutter he saw a notice stuck up.  He struck a wax match and read the following, in a large, uneven hand:  “Closed on account of the Confirmation.”

Then he went away, as he saw it was useless to remain, and left the drunken man lying on the pavement fast asleep, outside that inhospitable door.

The next day, all the regular customers, one after the other, found some reason for going through the street, with a bundle of papers under their arm to keep them in countenance, and with a furtive glance they all read that mysterious notice: 

        “Closed on account of the Confirmation.”

PART II

Madame Tellier had a brother, who was a carpenter in their native place, Virville, in the Department of Eure.  When she still kept the inn at Yvetot, she had stood godmother to that brother’s daughter, who had received the name of Constance—­Constance Rivet; she herself being a Rivet on her father’s side.  The carpenter, who knew that his sister was in a good position, did not lose sight of her, although they did not meet often, for they were both kept at home by their occupations, and lived a long way from each other.  But as the girl was twelve years old, and going to be confirmed, he seized that opportunity to write to his sister, asking her to come and be present at the ceremony.  Their old parents were dead, and as she could not well refuse her goddaughter, she accepted the invitation.  Her brother, whose name was Joseph, hoped that by dint of showing his sister attention, she might be induced to make her will in the girl’s favor, as she had no children of her own.