Monsieur Fouvenard paused to take breath, and drank a glass of champagne; while we waited for him to continue his narrative, which, I confess, interested me deeply. For some unknown reason, I trembled to think of that pretty little Mignonne yielding to the seductions of the narrator, who, in truth, did not seem to me particularly seductive. But I am not a woman, and it is possible that that Capuchin beard possessed a fascination which I cannot understand.

"I soon reached Fontenay," he continued; "I had only to follow the crowd of people headed for the fÊte. Once there, I said to myself: 'I shall be very unlucky if I don't find Mignonne.'

"I had been strolling about for some time in front of the improvised stalls on a sort of square, when I discovered my three damsels, still arm in arm, halting in front of all the curiosities, games, and open-air shows, and giving full vent to the natural merriment of their age, intensified by Mignonne's satirical comments.

"Most of the young men bowed to them and made some jocose remark, generally vulgar and indecent, as the custom is among the country folk, whose innocence has always seemed to me largely apocryphal. The two Dargenettes replied in the same tone; but when Mignonne said anything, the young men did not retort; they sneaked away shamefaced, and I heard them more than once say to one another:

"'Oh! when Mamzelle Mignonne puts her oar in, I ain't smart enough to answer her back; she's too sharp, she is! Anyone can see that she's lived in Paris.'

"I approached the three friends and stopped at the stalls and shows at which they stopped. Mignonne noticed me, and I fancied that she blushed. One of the Dargenettes looked at me and said:

"'Look! there's that fellow that was eating MÈre Giroux's gingerbread. It looks funny for a Paris gentleman, with a beard, to eat gingerbread like that.'

"I saw Mignonne nudge the speaker. Probably she told her to keep quiet, for I heard nothing more.

"I tried to exchange a word or two with them, but they pretended not to hear me, and made no reply. However, I saw that they whispered together, and from time to time looked covertly to see if I was still there. At last they came to a halt where the dancing was in progress. I was waiting for that. Dancing is not exactly my favorite pastime; but when it's a question of seducing somebody's daughter, then I become a fearless dancer. As for young women, almost all of them love dancing; indeed, there are some in whom the taste amounts to a passion; but if they had to dance without men, you may be sure that their love for dancing would soon vanish. Whence I conclude that the actual pleasure of capering is a secondary matter. But dancing gives an opportunity to show one's grace and lightness of foot, to play the flirt, to listen to soft speeches, often to passionate avowals, accompanied by a pressure of the hand, before the nose of a jealous spectator, who sees nothing, because it's a part of the figure!—Is it surprising, then, that almost all women have an inborn passion for the dance?

"I made haste to engage Mademoiselle Mignonne for a contra-dance; for the polka has not yet descended upon village fÊtes. She accepted my invitation with a well-satisfied air. I at once took her hand, and, leaving her friends, led her away to our places. I say again that nothing better for lovers, in esse or in futuro, has ever been invented. I very soon entered into conversation with my partner. I was careful not to go too fast, and not to begin, like an idiot, by telling her that I adored her; she would have laughed in my face. But I did not conceal my amazement at her manner, her bearing, her language; I told her that it could not be that she was born in a village. Thereupon she told me what I already knew; but I pretended that I heard it for the first time. I did not squeeze her hand, but I manifested the deepest interest in her, and engaged her for the next contra-dance. At first, she made some objections; but I persisted, and she accepted. I saw plainly enough that it flattered her to dance with a gentleman from the city.

"When we joined her companions, who had also been dancing, they were drenched with perspiration and their cheeks were purple; but their partners had left them without offering them any refreshment. I made haste to call a waiter who was selling beer or wine, the only refreshments to be found at open-air fÊtes.—Oh, yes! there are also vendors of cocoa.—The beer being brought, the two Dargenettes did not wait to be asked twice, and Mignonne saw that it would be useless to stand on ceremony.

"Thus I found myself one of their party. But I behaved with a restraint and reserve which would have edified Monsieur FaisandÉ. During the second contra-dance, Mademoiselle Mignonne talked even more freely; and I saw that, while she had brought back from Paris the pretty manners and the more refined language which gave her such a great advantage over the village girls, she had retained the candor and artlessness which we do not find in city maidens, even in those who have been reared most strictly. Mignonne was a strange mixture of innocence and knowledge, of frankness and coquetry, of simplicity and passion. Her stay in Paris, the people she had seen there, the reading with which she had tired her memory, had given her a feeling of distaste for the country, although her mind and her heart still retained all the primitive freshness of a virgin nature.—Agree, messieurs, that that child was a charming conquest to contemplate."

"Faith! there was no great merit in the conquest!" cried Balloquet. "The girl wouldn't have a peasant, so she was sure to fall into the first snare laid for her by a man from the city; and then, your beard must have helped you considerably in triumphing over Mademoiselle Mignonne."

"Why so?"

"Because it partly hides your face."

Fouvenard shrugged his shoulders, threw a bread ball at Balloquet, and resumed his narrative.

"After the second contra-dance, Mignonne said that she wanted to walk about. I asked leave to accompany them, and I had been so polite that they could not refuse me. Indeed, I think that they were not anxious to do so; the Dargenettes, because they liked to be treated; and Mignonne, because she was flattered to have a young Parisian for her escort.

"She declined to take my arm; but I walked beside her, as she was no longer between her friends. I paid for their admission to all the shows under canvas, of the sort that are always found at an out-of-doors fÊte. Mignonne tried to refuse at first, but the two peasants hurried into the strolling theatre, and the pretty blonde had to follow them in order not to be left alone with me.

"Toward the end of the evening, we were like old acquaintances. I had treated them to everything obtainable, and I had even danced with Mignonne's friends.

"We left the fÊte together. It was dark, and they accepted my arm. I had Mignonne on one side, and one of the peasants on the other; the second had her sister's arm, so that we walked four abreast. Country people delight in that, and it reminded me unpleasantly of Sunday strollers in Paris. I would have preferred to walk alone with Mignonne, but it was impossible.

"It seemed to me a very short walk, notwithstanding the fact that the Dargenettes sang all the way, and sang horribly false, murdering every air they tried. But Mignonne did not sing, and I began to press affectionately the arm that lay in mine.

"Chance willed that we reached the peasants' house before Mignonne's. They said good-night, and kissed one another laughingly. I heard them whispering, and could make out that I was the subject. The Dargenettes said: 'You have made a conquest of the bearded man! Look out he don't kidnap you!' and other witticisms of the same sort."