There was nothing for it but the fireside. The very _douaniers_ had abandoned the street--the pigs had retreated--the donkeys brayed at intervals from their ground-floor parlours; and only the maniac geese sat on one leg, croaking, to be rained on, and the marble fountain, so pretty yester-evening in a gleam of sunshine, spouted away, bringing "coals to Newcastle," with an insane perseverance which it made me sad to contemplate. Dinner was ordered as soon as it could be got ready; we felt it was the last resource. I fortunately had a change of clothes. Martin had not; but he retired for awhile, and reappeared in a home-spun coat and trowsers, six inches too long for him, which he was fain to hold up, to the enormous triumph and delight of Jeanne. At length, then, that neat-handed Phillis announced dinner.
"Stay a moment!" exclaimed Martin; "I am just going to see whether it is likely to clear up."
Out he went into the mud, and returned with the announcement that it would be summer weather in five minutes; he knew, by some particular movement of the mist. But poor Martin's weather predictions had ceased to command any credit; and the peasants around the fire shrugged their shoulders and laughed. The dinner passed off like a funeral feast. I looked upon the Place--still a puddle, and every moment getting deeper. No songs--no jodling choruses to-night, maidens of Laruns!
Sitting gloomily over the Jurancon wine, and looking at the fire, I saw a huge cauldron put on, and presently the steam of soup began to steal into the room. Martin and Jeanne were holding confidential intercourse, which ended in my squire's coming to me, and announcing that there was to be held a grand _épeluche_ of the Indian corn, and that the soup was to form the supper of the work-people. Presently, sure enough, a vast pile of maize in the husk was brought up, and heaped upon the floor; and as the dusk gathered, massive iron candlesticks with tapers which were rather rushlights than otherwise, were set in due order around the grain. Then in laughing parties, drenched but merry, the neighbours poured in--men, women, and children--and vast was the clatter of tongues in Bernais, as they squatted themselves down on stools and on the floor, and began to strip off the husks of the yellow heads of corn, flinging the peeled grain into coarse baskets set for the purpose. The old people deposited themselves on settles in the vast chimney-nook; and amongst them there was led to a seat a tall blind man, with grizzly grey hair, and a mild smiling face.