hastened to add:
“Nay, my little man, I did but jest with thee! Thou shalt sleep thisnight in the strong castle of Bois Varne, with not even a mouse to fretthy yellow head; and, what is more, thou shalt see the fairest littlemaid that ever thou hast set eyes on!”
And then he told him of his little daughter, the Lady Elinor, and howshe would play with Félix and show him the castle, and how on themorrow they would see about sending him home to Sur Varne.
And all the while the count was talking they were trotting brisklyonward, till by and by they emerged from the forest and saw toweringnear at hand the castle of Bois Varne. The tall turrets shone andshimmered in the moonlight, and over the gateway of the drawbridge hunga lighted cresset—that is, a beautiful wrought-iron basket, in whichblazed a ruddy torch of oil to light them on their way.
At sight of this the count and Brian spurred on their horses, and weresoon clattering across the bridge and into the great paved courtyard.The count flung his bridle to a little page who hastened out to meethim, and then, springing from his saddle, lightly lifted Félix andswung him to the ground. He then took the boy by the hand and led himinto the great hall of the castle.
To Félix this looked marvelously beautiful. Christmas garlands ofmyrtle hung on the walls, and a great pile of freshly cut laurel boughslay on a bench, ready for the morrow’s arranging. But that which tookhis eyes most of all was the lovely carving everywhere to be seen. Thebenches and tables were covered with it; the wainscot of the spaciousroom was richly adorned; and over and about the wide fireplace greatcarved dragons of stone curled their long tails and spread their wingsthrough a maze of intricate traceries. Félix was enchanted, and gazedaround till his eyes almost ached.
Presently in came running a little girl, laughing with delight.Bounding up into Count Bernard’s arms, she hugged and kissed him intrue Provençal fashion. Then, catching sight of Félix:
“Ah, _mon père_,” she exclaimed, “and where foundest thou thy prettynew page?”
“Nay, sweetheart,” answered the count, looking down at Félix’s yellowhair, “’tis no page, but a little goldfinch we found perched in achestnut tree as we rode through the forest.”
Then, smiling at the Lady Elinor’s bewilderment, he told her the littleboy’s story, and she at once slipped down and greeted him kindly.Then, clapping her hands with pleasure at finding a new playmate, shedeclared he must come to see the Christmas crèche which she was justfinishing.
“Not so fast, _ma chère_!” interposed the count, “we must sup first,for we are famished as the wolves we left behind us in the forest.” Andthereupon he called in the steward of the castle, who soon set out ahearty supper on one of the long tables.
Elinor sat close by, eagerly chattering as they ate, and the momentFélix had swallowed the last morsel, she seized him by the hand andhastened across the hall, where her crèche was built upon a carvedbench. The poor little Lady Elinor had no mother, and her father, thecount, had been gone for several days; and although in the castle weremany serving men and women and retainers, yet none of these presumed todictate to the little mistress; and so she had put her crèche togetherin a very odd fashion.
“There!” said she, “what thinkest thou of it, Félix? Of a truth, Ifancy somewhat is wanting, yet I know not how to better it!”
“Yes,” said Félix, bashfully, “it may be I can help thee.”
And so he set to work rearranging the little houses and figures, tillhe succeeded in giving a life-like air to the crèche, and Lady Elinordanced with delight.
While placing the little manger he happened to remember the figure ofthe Christ Child still in his blouse pocket; this he timidly took outand showed the little girl, who was charmed, and still more so when hedrew forth a small wooden sheep and a dog, which were also in the samepocket, and which he begged her to keep.
The Lady Elinor was so carried away with joy that she flew to the sideof the count, and, grasping both his hands, dragged him across the roomto show him the crèche and the wonderful figures carved by Félix. Félixhimself was covered with confusion when he saw the count coming, andwould gladly have run from the hall, but that was impossible; so hestood still, his eyes averted and his face crimson.
“See, _mon père_!” said Elinor, “see this, and this!” And she held upthe carvings for the count’s inspection.
Count Bernard, who had good-naturedly crossed the room to please hisdaughter, now opened his eyes wide with surprise. He took the littlefigures she handed him and examined them closely, for he was a goodjudge of artistic work of this kind. Then he looked at Félix, and atlength he said:
“Well, little forest bird, who taught thee the carver’s craft?”
“No one, sir,” faltered Félix; “indeed, I wish, above all things, tolearn of the Père Videau, the master carver; but my father says I mustbe a shepherd, as he is.”
Here a tear rolled down Félix’s cheek, for he was half frightened andterribly tired.
“Well, well,” said the count, “never mind! Thou art weary, little one;we will talk of this more on the morrow. ’Tis high time now that bothof you were sound asleep. Hey, there! Jean! Jacques! Come hither andtake care of this little lad, and see to it that he hath a soft bed anda feather pillow!”
The next morning the children ate a merry breakfast together, and afterit Count Bernard took Félix aside and asked him many questions of hislife and his home. Then, by and by, knowing how anxious the boy’sparents would be, he ordered his trusty squire, Brian, to saddle ahorse and conduct Félix back to Sur Varne.
Meantime the little Lady Elinor begged hard that he stay longer inthe castle for her playfellow, and was quite heartbroken when shesaw the horse standing ready in the courtyard. Indeed, she would notbe satisfied until her father, the count, who could not bear to seeher unhappy, had promised to take her over some day to see Félixin Sur Varne. Then she smiled and made a pretty farewell courtesy,and suddenly snatching from her dark hair a crimson ribbon of Lyonstaffeta, she tied it about Félix’s sleeve, declaring:
“There! thou must keep this token, and be my little knight!” for theLady Elinor had many lofty notions in her small curly head.
Félix could only stammer out an embarrassed good by, for in thepresence of this lively little maid he found himself quaking more thanwhen he feared the terrible wolves of the forest. In another momentBrian lifted him to the saddle, and, springing up behind, took thebridle-rein, and off they went.
When, after several hours’ riding, they drew near Sur Varne, Félixshowed Brian the way to the Michaud cottage, and you can fancy howoverjoyed were the Père and Misè to see the travelers; for they hadbeen nearly beside themselves with grief, and had searched all nightfor their little son.
Of course almost the first question Félix asked was about Beppo, and hefelt a great load taken off his mind when he learned that the littletruant, who really had not strayed very far from the village, had beenfound and brought home by one of the shepherds, and was even thenpenned up safe and sound in the sheepfold.
After a good night’s sleep Félix was quite rested from his journey. Hewas busy the next day in helping to garland the Yule log, in givingNinette and Beppo an extra scrubbing and brushing, and in all the finalhappy preparations for the great holiday.
And so Christmas Eve came. It was a lovely starlit night, and on allsides one could hear the beautiful Christmas songs of old Provence,that all the peasants and the children sing as they troop along theroads on their way to the great church of the village; for thitherevery one flocks as the expected hour draws on.
Within the church all was a blaze of light; hundreds of tall wax tapersshone and twinkled and shed their golden glow over the altar, and awonderful crèche with its manger and almost life-size figures stood onanother special altar of its own.
Then presently the stately service began, and went on with song andincense, and the sweet chanting of children’s voices, till suddenlyfrom the upper tower of the church a joyous peal of bells rang in themidnight! Al
l at once, through the dense throng of worshipers nearestthe door a pathway opened, and in came four peasants playing on pipesand flutes and flageolets a quaint old air made up nearly three hundredyears before by good King René for just such a ceremony as was tofollow.
After the pipers walked ten shepherds, two by two, each wearing a longbrown cloak, and carrying a staff and lighted candle; that is, all savethe first two, and these bore, one a basket of fruit, melons and grapesand pears of sunny Provence, while the other held in his hands a pairof pretty white pigeons with rose-colored eyes and soft, flutteringwings.
And then, behind the shepherds came—what do you suppose?—Ninette!Ninette, her fleece shining like snow, a garland of laurel and myrtleabout her neck, and twigs of holly nodding behind her ears; while boundabout her woolly shoulders a little harness of scarlet leather shoneagainst the white with dazzling effect; and fastened to the harness,and trundling along at Ninette’s heels, came the gayest of littlewooden carts. It was painted in the brightest colors. Its wheels werewrapped with garlands, and in it, curled up