Late in the evening the table was covered with damask cloths and adorned with flowers. A supper of roast beef, vegetables, fruit and black coffee was prepared. Towards midnight the piano began to be played, that those who entered the hall might be welcomed with cheerful music.
Some girls came in laughing, and quickly went out again, evidently thinking there must be some deception. They did not believe that banquets were spread for nothing. Sometimes it was very difficult to convince them that the thing was not a farce.
Presently a horrible old hag appeared—it would be difficult to imagine a more ugly, repulsive woman. Coming up to the Maréchale she said—
"You are the Holy Virgin. I know it. Oui, vous êtes la Sainte Vierge, je le sais."
The Maréchale did not know what to say, so much was she taken aback.
"You are the Holy Virgin," the old woman repeated.
"Come along and have a talk with me," said the Maréchale, "and take supper. I am delighted to see you."
The woman laughed. "No, no, no, it isn't me that you want—Ce n'est pas moi qu'il vous faut."
"Yes, it is you. I am happy, believe me I am so happy, to see you. It is you whom I want. Do sit down."
At last, with great difficulty, she was persuaded to be seated. But she stayed only a minute. The Maréchale turned to speak to somebody, and the old woman darted out of the hall. She was gone like a flash.