The Fête At Coqueville | Page 9

not
have the appearance of a cask, it was too long.
"It's a beam," said Fouasse.
Rouget let fall his sixth jambin without drawing it out of the water.
"Let's go and see, all the same," said he.
As they advanced, they thought they recognized at first a beam, a chest,
the trunk of a tree. Then they gave a cry of joy.
It was a real cask, but a very queer cask, such as they had never seen
before. One would have said a tube, bulging in the middle and closed at
the two ends by a layer of plaster.
"Ah, that's comical!" cried Rouget, in rapture. "This one I want the
Emperor to taste. Come, children, let's go in."
They all agreed not to touch it, and the "Baleine" returned to
Coqueville at the same moment as the "Zéphir," in its turn, anchored in
the little harbor. Not one inquisitive had left the beach. Cries of joy
greeted that unexpected catch of three casks. The gamins hurled their
caps into the air, while the women had at once gone on the run to look
for glasses. It was decided to taste the liquid on the spot. The wreckage

belonged to the village. Not one protest arose. Only they formed into
two groups, the Mahés surrounded Rouget, the Floches would not let
go of La Queue.
"Emperor, the first glass for you!" cried Rouget. "Tell us what it is."
The liquor was of a beautiful golden yellow. The garde champêtre
raised his glass, looked at it, smelt it, then decided to drink.
"That comes from Holland," said he, after a long silence.
He did not give any other information. All the Mahés drank with
deference. It was rather thick, and they stood surprised, for it tasted of
flowers. The women found it very good. As for the men, they would
have preferred less sugar. Nevertheless, at the bottom it ended by being
strong at the third or fourth glass. The more they drank, the better they
liked it. The men became jolly, the women grew funny.
But the Emperor, in spite of his recent quarrels with the Mayor, had
gone to hang about the group of Floches.
The biggest cask gave out a dark-red liquor, while they drew from the
smallest a liquid white as water from the rock; and it was this latter that
was the stiff est, a regular pepper, something that skinned the tongue.
Not one of the Floches recognized it, neither the red nor the white.
There were, however, some wags there. It annoyed them to be regaling
themselves without knowing over what.
"I say, Emperor, taste that for me!" said La Queue, thus taking the first
step.
The Emperor, who had been waiting for the invitation, posed once
more as connoisseur.
"As for the red," he said, "there is orange in that! And for the white," he
declared, "that--that is excellent!"

They had to content themselves with these replies, for he shook his
head with a knowing air, with the happy look of a man who has given
satisfaction to the world.
The Abbé Radiguet, alone, did not seem convinced. As for him, he had
the names on the tip of his tongue; and to thoroughly reassure himself,
he drank small glasses, one after the other, repeating: "Wait, wait, I
know what it is. In a moment I will tell you."
In the mean while, little by little, merriment grew in the group of the
Mahés and the group of the Floches. The latter, particularly, laughed
very loud because they had mixed the liquors, a thing that excited them
the more. For the rest, the one and the other of the groups kept apart.
They did not offer each other of their casks, they simply cast
sympathetic glances, seized with the unavowed desire to taste their
neighbor's liquor, which might possibly be better. The inimical brothers,
Tupain and Fouasse, were in close proximity all the evening without
showing their fists. It was remarked, also, that Rouget and his wife
drank from the same glass. As for Margot, she distributed the liquor
among the Floches, and as she filled the glasses too full, and the liquor
ran over her fingers, she kept sucking them continually, so well that,
though obeying her father who forbade her to drink, she became as
fuddled as a girl in vintage time. It was not unbecoming to her; on the
contrary, she got rosy all over, her eyes were like candles.
The sun set, the evening was like the softness of springtime. Coqueville
had finished the casks and did not dream of going home to dine. They
found themselves too comfortable on the beach. When it was pitch
night, Margot, sitting apart, felt some one blowing on her neck. It was
Del-phin,