The food had been spread on the tablecloth under the shade of the ash-trees, and all the guests sat around on sacks of charcoal; for Reine and Julien alone they had reserved two stools, made by the master, and thus they found themselves seated side by side.  Soon a profound, almost religious, silence indicated that the attack was about to begin; after which, and when the first fury of their appetites had been appeased, the tongues began to be loosened:  jokes and anecdotes, seasoned with loud bursts of laughter, were bandied to and fro under the spreading branches, and presently the wine lent its aid to raise the spirits of the company to an exuberant pitch.  But there was a certain degree of restraint observed by these country folk.  Was it owing to Reine’s presence?  Julien noticed that the remarks of the working-people were in a very much better tone than those of the Auberive gentry, with whom he had breakfasted; the gayety of these children of the woods, although of a common kind, was always kept within decent limits, and he never once had occasion to feel ashamed.  He felt more at ease among them than among the notables of the borough, and he did not regret having accepted Claudet’s invitation.

“I am glad I came,” murmured he in Reine’s ear, “and I never have eaten with so much enjoyment!”

“Ah!  I am glad of it,” replied the young girl, gayly, “perhaps now you will begin to like our woods.”

When nothing was left on the table but bones and empty bottles, Pere Theotime took a bottle of sealed wine, drew the cork, and filled the glasses.

“Now,” said he, “before christening our bouquet, we will drink to Monsieur de Buxieres, who has brought us his good wine, and to our sweet lady, Mademoiselle Vincart.”

The glasses clinked, and the toasts were drunk with fervor.

“Mamselle Reine,” resumed Pere Theotime, with a certain amount of solemnity, “you can see, the hut is built; it will be occupied to-night, and I trust good work will be done.  You can perceive from here our first furnace, all decorated and ready to be set alight.  But, in order that good luck shall attend us, you yourself must set light to the fire.  I ask you, therefore, to ascend to the top of the chimney and throw in the first embers; may I ask this of your good-nature?”

“Why, certainly!” replied Reine, “come, Monsieur de Buxieres, you must see how we light a charcoal furnace.”

All the guests jumped from their seats; one of the men took the ladder and leaned it against the sloping side of the furnace.  Meanwhile, Pere Theotime was bringing an earthen vase full of burning embers.  Reine skipped lightly up the steps, and when she reached the top, stood erect near the orifice of the furnace.

Her graceful outline came out in strong relief against the clear sky; one by one, she took the embers handed her by the charcoal-dealer, and threw them into the opening in the middle of the furnace.  Soon there was a crackling inside, followed by a dull rumbling; the chips and rubbish collected at the bottom had caught fire, and the air-holes left at the base of the structure facilitated the passage of the current, and hastened the kindling of the wood.