When, after several hours’ riding, they drew near Sur Varne, Félix showed Brian the way to the Michaud cottage, and you can fancy how overjoyed were the Père and Misè to see the travelers; for they had been nearly beside themselves with grief, and had searched all night for their little son.
Of course almost the first question Félix asked was about Beppo, and he felt a great load taken off his mind when he learned that the little truant, who really had not strayed very far from the village, had been found and brought home by one of the shepherds, and was even then penned up safe and sound in the sheepfold.
After a good night’s sleep Félix was quite rested from his journey. He was busy the next day in helping to garland the Yule log, in giving Ninette and Beppo an extra scrubbing and brushing, and in all the final happy preparations for the great holiday.
And so Christmas Eve came. It was a lovely starlit night, and on all sides one could hear the beautiful Christmas songs of old Provence, that all the peasants and the children sing as they troop along the roads on their way to the great church of the village; for thither every one flocks as the expected hour draws on.
Within the church all was a blaze of light; hundreds of tall wax tapers shone and twinkled and shed their golden glow over the altar, and a wonderful crèche with its manger and almost life-size figures stood on another special altar of its own.
Then presently the stately service began, and went on with song and incense, and the sweet chanting of children’s voices, till suddenly from the upper tower of the church a joyous peal of bells rang in the midnight! All at once, through the dense throng of worshipers nearest the door a pathway opened, and in came four peasants playing on pipes and flutes and flageolets a quaint old air made up nearly three hundred years before by good King René for just such a ceremony as was to follow.
After the pipers walked ten shepherds, two by two, each wearing a long brown cloak, and carrying a staff and lighted candle; that is, all save the first two, and these bore, one a basket of fruit, melons and grapes and pears of sunny Provence, while the other held in his hands a pair of pretty white pigeons with rose-colored eyes and soft, fluttering wings.
And then, behind the shepherds came—what do you suppose?—Ninette! Ninette, her fleece shining like snow, a garland of laurel and myrtle about her neck, and twigs of holly nodding behind her ears; while bound about her woolly shoulders a little harness of scarlet leather shone against the white with dazzling effect; and fastened to the harness, and trundling along at Ninette’s heels, came the gayest of little wooden carts. It was painted in the brightest colors. Its wheels were wrapped with garlands, and in it, curled up in a fat fleecy ball, lay Beppo! Tied about his neck in a huge bow was a crimson ribbon of Lyons taffeta, with a sprig of holly tucked into its loops.
Beppo lay quite still, looking about him with a bewildered, half-dazed expression, and just behind his cart came ten more shepherds with staves and candles, while following them was a great throng of peasant folk and children, among them Félix, all carrying lighted tapers, and radiant with delight; for this was the Procession of the Offered Lamb, and to walk in its train was considered by all the greatest honor and privilege.
And especially did the shepherd folk love the beautiful old custom which for centuries the people of Provence had cherished in memory of the time, long ago, when the real Christ Child lay in the manger of Bethlehem, and the shepherds of Judea sought him out to worship him, and to offer him their fruits and lambs as gifts.