And now, when we left the cafe, we were pursued and overtaken at the hotel door by no less a person than the Juge de Paix:  a functionary, as far as I can make out, of the character of a Scots Sheriff-Substitute.  He gave us his card and invited us to sup with him on the spot, very neatly, very gracefully, as Frenchmen can do these things.  It was for the credit of Landrecies, said he; and although we knew very well how little credit we could do the place, we must have been churlish fellows to refuse an invitation so politely introduced.

The house of the Judge was close by; it was a well-appointed bachelor’s establishment, with a curious collection of old brass warming-pans upon the walls.  Some of these were most elaborately carved.  It seemed a picturesque idea for a collector.  You could not help thinking how many night-caps had wagged over these warming-pans in past generations; what jests may have been made, and kisses taken, while they were in service; and how often they had been uselessly paraded in the bed of death.  If they could only speak, at what absurd, indecorous, and tragical scenes had they not been present!

The wine was excellent.  When we made the Judge our compliments upon a bottle, ‘I do not give it you as my worst,’ said he.  I wonder when Englishmen will learn these hospitable graces.  They are worth learning; they set off life, and make ordinary moments ornamental.

There were two other Landrecienses present.  One was the collector of something or other, I forget what; the other, we were told, was the principal notary of the place.  So it happened that we all five more or less followed the law.  At this rate, the talk was pretty certain to become technical.  The Cigarette expounded the Poor Laws very magisterially.  And a little later I found myself laying down the Scots Law of Illegitimacy, of which I am glad to say I know nothing.  The collector and the notary, who were both married men, accused the Judge, who was a bachelor, of having started the subject.  He deprecated the charge, with a conscious, pleased air, just like all the men I have ever seen, be they French or English.  How strange that we should all, in our unguarded moments, rather like to be thought a bit of a rogue with the women!

As the evening went on, the wine grew more to my taste; the spirits proved better than the wine; the company was genial.  This was the highest water mark of popular favour on the whole cruise.  After all, being in a Judge’s house, was there not something semi-official in the tribute?  And so, remembering what a great country France is, we did full justice to our entertainment.  Landrecies had been a long while asleep before we returned to the hotel; and the sentries on the ramparts were already looking for daybreak.

SAMBRE AND OISE CANAL

CANAL BOATS

Next day we made a late start in the rain.  The Judge politely escorted us to the end of the lock under an umbrella.  We had now brought ourselves to a pitch of humility in the matter of weather, not often attained except in the Scottish Highlands.  A rag of blue sky or a glimpse of sunshine set our hearts singing; and when the rain was not heavy, we counted the day almost fair.