"It is bad weather," said the grandmother, as he stuffed the parcel in the pocket of his jacket.
But the journeys to St. Julian were never postponed, for the Havre dealer only passed once in six weeks, and to succeed one must be punctual. Jean-Paul went in all weathers. In his other pocket he put the rabbit Belle Hélène, and the old grandmother watched him as he pulled his cap down hard and bent his head against the wind.
"How strong he is, how straight!" she murmured, and she thought of the rabbit in his pocket and smiled. "La Belle Hélène, La Belle Hélène, his heart is all with the ship. If I were not so old, and the sea has taken so much! It is not fair," she said, shaking her head. "One may at least keep one out of four brave gars." And then she went into her cabin, shut the door against the wind, and commenced a new pair of stockings.
Meanwhile Jean-Paul went sturdily up, up the hill. The road to St. Julian lay past the woods of the château. The young fellow loved these forests when the tree trunks were all green with a bright moss growth, and where the guests of the Mayor came and hunted during the fall weeks, and flashed through the trees in their bright scarlet coats.
THE GAMEKEEPER'S HAND FELL UPON JEAN-PAUL.
He had often watched the chase, and seen the brown hares jump in the underbrush and the deer fly by. But his thoughts on this day were elsewhere, and do as he would, it was nothing but La Belle Hélène, La Belle Hélène that kept constantly sailing into his thoughts and casting anchor in his brain. It was easy enough to slip off at night, follow the cliff path, and before you know it you are at Fécamp; and the harbor is bristling with barks at this season, and when one knows the mate of La Belle Hélène, and he has said, "Come, Jean-Paul, you will join us next year surely, mon vieux." (That makes one feel so grand to be called old chap by a man of position.) "Next year I will give you a good berth and recommend you to the Captain, and you will do the rest." And this was next year, and he was as far away as ever! Here Jean-Paul drew a big breath that meant a pain was at the other end of it, and went on thinking. When he reached the little knoll just at the end of the forest château, the hard struggle was at an end, but he felt about as beside himself as a healthy boy of fifteen can. The result was that he was more tired than though he had already gone the whole of the long way to St. Julian. Suddenly he remembered what his grandmother had given him just before he left the house—his luncheon; and he sat down on a big stone, and he drew out of his pocket a chunk of coarse bread and a stick of chocolate. He commenced slowly and meditatively to munch this repast and stare way down the long white road into the fast-deepening twilight, while the wind, which was against him, blew so hard that he could with difficulty keep his seat. Far away behind him lay a glimpse of the sea, which showed black and sullen. Jean-Paul felt La Belle Hélène move restlessly in the right pocket of his coat. "Poor little thing, she is hungry too! I will not eat alone," he said, and drew the rabbit out of his pocket, and put her on his knee, gently stroking her while she nibbled a few crumbs of bread. Just then who can say what strange spirit awoke in La Belle Hélène, or what familiar wood call may have reached her ear, for she gave a violent start, and sprang from the knee of Jean-Paul, made one swift bound, pushed her lithe body through the thick hedge, and was off into the dark woods of the château; but almost as quick in his movements was Jean-Paul, for he sprang to his feet, tore his way through the hedge, and started in hot pursuit. She kept ever just in front of him, maddeningly near, yet maddeningly far. He pushed his way through the bushes, and the two soon found themselves in the beautiful woods of the château. Jean-Paul thought of nothing save that La Belle Hélène had escaped and he must get her once more. He called in vain; freedom was sweet, and the leaves must have felt delightfully familiar; and ever pursuing the rabbit who had allured her away, the brown beast kept just beyond her master's reach. Perhaps, however, she lost for a moment the call of her kind, or the imploring tones of her little master touched her, for she stopped. At that moment Jean-Paul threw himself forward and caught La Belle Hélène. As his hand fell upon her, another hand, not half so gentle, fell upon the shoulder of Jean-Paul, and with the rabbit clasped in his hand, the startled lad turned and confronted the gamekeeper, who stood with his gun in his hand, rudely peering in the young fellow's face. "Ha! ha! my pretty fellow, caught in the act, in the very act," chuckled the gamekeeper, maliciously, and he put his hand over the little brown rabbit.