ared in the
direction of the abbey. For a long time they still heard the noise,
which diminished like a storm in the distance, and then silence was
restored, and Monsieur Poulin and Monsieur Dupuis, who were enraged with
each other, went in different directions, without wishing each other
good-bye.

The other four set off again, and instinctively went in the direction of
Madame Tellier's establishment, which was still closed, silent,
impenetrable. A quiet, but obstinate, drunken man was knocking at the
door of the cafe, and then stopped and called Frederic, the waiter, in a
low voice, but finding that he got no answer, he sat down on the
doorstep, and waited the course of events.

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 brutes went on
their way towards 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 stopped outside the door, was crying by that
time, like 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 vexed at having to wait until the next Saturday, and he
hoped for something to 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 thus closed.

He went back to it, and examined the walls, and trying to find out the
reason, and on the shutter he saw a notice stuck up, so he struck a wax
vesta, 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