Brisquet, who never shirked his work, and, thanks to his good axe, had no fear of wolves, said to his wife one morning: “Oh, do not let either Biscotin or Biscotine run about outside until the master of the wolf-hounds arrives. It will be dangerous if they do. There is room enough for them to play between the mound and the pond, now that I have put stakes along the water to prevent any accident happening to them. And do not let Bichonne out either; she is always wanting to be on the run.”
Morning after morning he cautioned Brisquette in the same way.
One evening Brisquet did not reach home at his usual time. Brisquette went to the doorstep, returned, went back again, and “Oh, dear; oh, dear!” she said, wringing her hands, “how late he is!” Then she ran out of doors, shouting, “Oh, Brisquet, Brisquet!”
And Bichonne leaped as high as her shoulders, as if she were asking, “Shall I not go?”
“Be quiet!” said Brisquette; then turning to the children, “Listen, Biscotine, run as far as the mound and see if your father is not coming. And you, Biscotin, take the path along the pond, and be careful lest some of the stakes should be missing. And shout out loud ‘Brisquet! Brisquet!’
“Be quiet, Bichonne!”
The children went on and on, and when they met at the place where the path by the pond and the path by the mound crossed, Biscotin exclaimed excitedly, “I shall find my father, I will find him, or the wolves shall eat me up!”