The vicomte blushed up to his ears, pretended not to have heard and,
taking up the enormous bouquet, handed it to Jeanne. She accepted it,
more astonished than ever. They all four got into the carriage, and
Ludivine, who brought a cup of bouillon to the baroness to sustain her
strength, said: "Truly, madame, one would say it was a wedding!"
They alighted as soon as they entered Yport, and as they walked
through the village the sailors, in their new clothes, still showing
the creases, came out of their homes, and shaking hands with the
baron, followed the party as if it were a procession. The vicomte, who
had offered his arm to Jeanne, walked with her at the head.
When they reached the church they stopped, and an acolyte appeared
holding upright the large silver crucifix, followed by another boy in
red and white, who bore a chalice containing holy water.
Then came three old cantors, one of them limping; then the trumpet
("serpent"), and last, the curé with his gold embroidered stole. He
smiled and nodded a greeting; then, with his eyes half closed, his
lips moving in prayer, his beretta well over his forehead, he followed
his surpliced bodyguard, walking in the direction of the sea.
On the beach a crowd was standing around a new boat wreathed with
flowers. Its mast, sail and ropes were covered with long streamers of
ribbon that floated in the breeze, and the name, "Jeanne," was painted
in gold letters on the stern.
Père Lastique, the proprietor of this boat, built with the baron's
money, advanced to meet the procession. All the men, simultaneously,
took off their hats, and a row of pious persons wearing long black
cloaks falling in large folds from their shoulders, knelt down in a
circle at sight of the crucifix.
The curé walked, with an acolyte on either side of him, to one end of
the boat, while at the other end, the three old cantors, in their
white surplices, with a serious air and their eyes fixed on the
psalter, sang at the top of their voices in the clear morning air.
Each time they stopped to take breath, the "serpent" continued its
bellowing alone, and as he puffed out his cheeks the musician's little
gray eyes disappeared, and the skin of his forehead and neck seemed to
distend.
The motionless, transparent sea seemed to be taking part meditatively
in the baptism of this boat, rolling its tiny waves, no higher than a
finger, with the faint sound of a rake on the shingle. And the big
white gulls, with their wings unfurled, circled about in the blue
heavens, flying off and then coming back in a curve above the heads of
the kneeling crowd, as if to see what they were doing.
The singing ceased after an Amen that lasted five minutes; and the
priest, in an unctuous voice, murmured some Latin words, of which one
could hear only the sonorous endings. He then walked round the boat,
sprinkling it with holy water, and next began to murmur the "Oremus,"
standing alongside the boat opposite the sponsors, who remained
motionless, hand in hand.
The vicomte had the usual grave expression on his handsome face, but
Jeanne, choking with a sudden emotion, and on the verge of fainting,
began to tremble so violently that her teeth chattered. The dream that
had haunted her for some time was suddenly beginning, as if in a kind
of hallucination, to take the appearance of reality. They had spoken
of a wedding, a priest was present, blessing them; men in surplices
were singing psalms; was it not she whom they were giving in marriage?