Shortly after this visit, it happened that one day while little Leon was alone in the woods, searching for berries, he discovered a nest of young robins, built in a snug, shady place, against a large branch of an old oak tree. Leon stood for a long time silently watching the little, downy, chirping things, and the happy parent-birds, who were bringing them food, and dropping it into their wide gaping bills. They patiently flew back and forth, and brought worms, flies, and berries, till the greedy little bills gaped and chirped no more—then the good father-bird perched on a limb above the nest, began singing a sweet, tender song, while the kind mother-bird brooded over her darlings, as the dewy twilight was coming on.
Leon was so delighted with his new-found treasure, that the next morning he brought his cousin to the spot. When Auguste saw the nest, his eye flashed with eager joy.
"Ah," he exclaimed, "how lucky we are to find a nest of young robins for the dear Countess! Let us take them to her, and she will give us more money than we have ever seen in the world;" and Auguste began immediately to climb the old oak tree.
"Oh don't, don't, cousin Auguste!" cried Leon, clinging about him. "It would be a cruel, wicked thing to steal away those poor little birds—don't you see how dearly the old birds love them?"
Auguste thrust him back, exclaiming angrily—"Didn't the Countess say she wanted some young robins for her aviary?—then how dare you say it would be wicked to get them for her!" But Leon answered sturdily—
"The good curé says God takes care of the birds—He gave the little robins to the old ones, just as He gave us to our fathers and mothers; so it must be wicked to steal them away. And now, cousin dear, do come down and let them be."
But Auguste had already grasped the nest. He tore it away from its place, and slid with it down the tree. The old birds flew about him in the utmost distress, uttering wild, piercing cries of fear and sorrow. Leon's tender heart was touched by their grief—he expostulated and pleaded with his cousin, and then, seeing that entreaties were in vain, grew very angry—he even doubled up his little fists, and was about to fight for the liberation of the tiny captives. But he remembered in time the pious teachings of his mother and the good curé, and returned home, with a swelling heart and tearful eyes, while his cousin hurried off to the chateau, with the robins.
When Leon told his mother the story of the birds, she was very indignant, and started to seek Auguste's father, and ask him to send after the cruel boy, and compel him to restore the young robins to the old ones, for her kind mother-heart felt for them very much. But when Leon told her that they were taken for the Countess, she sat down to her work again, and said it was all well, for she had a great awe of the great lady.
Leon hoped in his heart that the good Countess would refuse the birds, and send Auguste back with the nest; so he waited as patiently as he could for his cousin's return. He came back, however, without the nest, triumphantly jingling a handful of silver coin.
"See," he cried, "what the Countess gave me for the robins! Here, Leon, is your share."