A few of the riff-raff, who invariably attend these public scenes, were now rather the worse for drink, from the indifferent liquor provided by the auctioneer, and they were inclined to horseplay and coarse chaff.

More than one ribald reference to Jean Jacques had been checked by his chivalrous fellow-citizens; indeed, M.Fille had almost laid himself open to a charge of assault in his own court by raising his stick at a loafer, who made insulting references to Jean Jacques.

But as the sale drew to a close, an air of rollicking humour among the younger men would not be suppressed, and it looked as though Jean Jacques' exit would be attended by the elements of farce and satire.
In this world, however, things do not happen logically, and Jean Jacques made his exit in a wholly unexpected manner.

He was going away by the train which left a new railway junction a few miles off, having gently yet firmly declined M.Fille's invitation, and also the invitations of others--including the Cure and Mere Langlois--to spend the night with them and start off the next day.

He elected to go on to Montreal that very night, and before the sale was quite finished he prepared to start.
His carpet-bag containing a few clothes and necessaries had been sent on to the junction, and he meant to walk to the station in the cool of the evening.
M.Manotel, the auctioneer, hoarse with his heavy day's work, was announcing that there were only a few more things to sell, and no doubt they could be had at a bargain, when Jean Jacques began a tour of the Manor.