Chapter IV: Part 4

She gave a little peal of laughter at his surprise, and exclaimed: “Oh, I coaxed _mon père_, the count, to fetch me hither for this blessed night. Thou knowest he promised! I rode my white palfrey all the way by the side of his big brown horse. And I have seen the procession, and Beppo with my red ribbon round his neck.” Here she gave another little gurgle of delight.

“And oh, Félix, my father hath seen thine, and ’tis all settled! Thou art to be a famous carver with the Père Videau, as thou wishest,”—for the Lady Elinor had unbounded faith in Félix’s powers, “and, Félix,” she added, “I trow ’twas the little Christ Child for thy crèche that did it!”

Then, with a merry smile, she darted off to her father, the Count Bernard, who was waiting for her down the church path.

For a little while after she had gone Félix did not move, but stood as one in a dream. Elinor’s sweet words, ringing in his ears, mingled with the glad songs the peasants were again singing on their homeward way, till altogether he did not quite know whether he was awake or asleep, but only felt an indistinct notion that some wonderful fairy, who had the face of a little maid he knew, had whispered in his ear something that was to make him happy forever.

Presently a loud bleat close at his side startled him, and looking down, he saw that Ninette, decked in her gay garlands, and still dragging the be-ribboned Beppo in the little cart, had broken away from the Père Michaud and come close up to himself.

Then, with a sudden movement, he stooped over, and, seizing Beppo in both arms, hugged and squeezed him till poor Beppo squeaked with surprise, and opened his red mouth and gasped for breath. But Félix only hugged him the harder, murmuring under his breath, “Bless thy little heart, Beppo! Bless thy little heart!” For in a vague way he realized that the truant lamb had somehow brought him his heart’s desire, and that was quite enough Christmas happiness for one year.

And the little Lady Elinor was right, too. Years after, when Félix grew to be a man, he did, in very truth, become a “famous carver,” as she had declared.

Far surpassing his first master, the Père Videau, he traveled and worked in many cities; yet never, through all his long life, did he forget that Christmas Eve in the little village of Sur Varne.

Those who knew him best said that among his dearest treasures he always kept a beautifully carved little box, and in it a bit of faded crimson ribbon from the looms of Lyons. While, as for Beppo—well, if ever some happy day you chance to visit the lovely land of Provence, perhaps you will see a certain grand old cathedral in the ancient city of Arles; and, if you do, look sharp at the figure of a lamb chiseled in white stone over the great portal. Look well, I say, for Félix, when he carved it, would have told you that he was thinking all the while of Beppo.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.