easure," continued Claudet, who was
profoundly mortified at the ill-success of his overtures. "Now! I have
it. Will you come with me to-morrow, to the Ronces woods? The
charcoal-dealers who are constructing their furnaces for the sale, will
complete their dwellings this evening and expect to celebrate in the
morning. They call it watering the bouquet, and it is the occasion of a
little festival, to which we, as well at the presiding officials of the
cutting, are invited. Naturally, the guests pay their share in bottles of
wine. You can hardly be excused from showing yourself among these good
people. It is one of the customs of the country. I have promised to be
there, and it is certain that Reine Vincart, who has bought the Ronces
property, will not fail to be present at the ceremony."

Julien had already the words on his lips for declining Claudet's offer,
when the name of Reine Vincart produced an immediate change in his
resolution. It just crossed his mind that perhaps Claudet had thrown out
her name as a bait and an argument in favor of his theories on the
facility of love-affairs in the country. However that might be, the
allusion to the probable presence of Mademoiselle Vincart at the coming
fete, rendered young Buxieres more tractable, and he made no further
difficulties about accompanying his cousin.

The next morning, after partaking hastily of breakfast, they started on
their way toward the cutting. The charcoal-dealers had located themselves
on the border of the forest, not far from the spot where, in the month of
January, Reine and Julien had visited the wood cutters. Under the
sheltering branches of a great ash tree, the newly erected but raised its
peaked roof covered with clods of turf, and two furnaces, just completed,
occupied the ground lately prepared. One of them, ready for use, was
covered with the black earth called 'frazil', which is extracted from the
site of old charcoal works; the other, in course of construction, showed
the successive layers of logs ranged in circles inside, ready for the
fire. The workmen moved around, going and coming; first, the head-man or
patron, a man of middle age, of hairy chest, embrowned visage, and small
beady eyes under bushy eyebrows; his wife, a little, shrivelled, elderly
woman; their daughter, a thin awkward girl of seventeen, with fluffy hair
and a cunning, hard expression; and finally, their three boys, robust
young fellows, serving their apprenticeship at th