CHAPTER X.
GABRIEL'S CHRISTMAS
WHEN the messenger reached the courtyard of the castle, he found peasantViaud awaiting him there. The poor man looked very pale and wan from hisimprisonment, and his face pitifully showed what anxiety he had sufferedin thinking about his family left with no one to help them. His clothes,too, were thin and worn, and he shivered in the cold December wind.Noticing this, the messenger at once sent word to Count Pierre that hewas sure King Louis would be highly gratified, if, in further honour ofhis coming marriage, the count would supply peasant Viaud with a warmsuit of clothes before leaving the castle.
This message was almost too much for Count Pierre to bear, but he didnot dare to refuse. And the messenger smiled to himself when, by and by,a page came and called Gabriel's father into the castle, from which, ina little while, he came out, warmly clad, and quite bewildered at allthat was happening to him.
As they set out together for the Viaud cottage, peasant Viaud walking,and the messenger riding very slowly, the latter explained to him allabout Gabriel's little prayer in the beautiful book, and how Lady Annehad sent it to King Louis, to whom he owed his release from prison. Butthe messenger added that, aside from the lad's father and mother, theking did not wish any one, not even Gabriel himself, to know how it hadall come about.
For King Louis declared that he himself did not deserve any thanks, butthat the good God had only chosen the Lady Anne and himself and CountPierre (though the latter did not know it) as the means of answeringGabriel's prayer, and of helping the Christ-child bring happiness at theblessed Christmas-time. For King Louis had not forgotten that the greatday was near at hand.
Of the promised return of the sheep, and the buying of the farm by theking, the messenger said nothing then; and when they had nearly reachedthe cottage, he took leave of peasant Viaud and rode back to the Abbey.For, having finished the king's errand, before going away, he wanted tosay good-bye to the Abbot and brothers of St. Martin's, and also to getsome of his belongings which he had left at the Abbey.
A few minutes after the messenger had left him, peasant Viaud reachedthe cottage and raised the latch,--but then it is no use trying to tellhow surprised and happy they all were! how they hugged and kissed eachother, and laughed and cried!
And then, when the first excitement was over, they began soberly towonder what they would do next; for they still feared the displeasure ofCount Pierre, and still did not know where to turn to raise the tax, orto help their poverty.
"If only he had not taken the sheep," said Gabriel's mother, sadly, "atleast I could have spun warm clothes for all of us!"
But even as she spoke, a loud "Baa! Baa!" sounded from up the road, andpresently along came a large flock of sheep followed by one of CountPierre's shepherds, who, without saying a word to any one, skilfullyguided them into the Viaud sheepfold, and there safely penned them in;then, still without a word, he turned about and went off in thedirection of the castle.
Gabriel's father and mother, who from the cottage window had watched allthis in silent amazement, looked at each other, too bewildered to speak.Then they went out together to the sheepfold, and peasant Viaud, whobegan to realize that this, too, must be part of King Louis's orders,explained to his wife that which the messenger had told him. When he hadfinished, they went back, hand in hand, to the house, their eyes filledwith happy tears, and in their hearts a great tenderness for the littleson who had brought help to them.
"_He passed a little peasant boy_"]
Just before dark, that same afternoon, the king's messenger, havingtaken leave of the Abbey folk, once more passed along the highroad. Onhis way, he was particular to stop at the Viaud cottage, where hecontrived to have a few minutes' talk alone with Gabriel's mother, andthen wishing her a merry Christmas, he spurred his horse, and rode alongon his journey back to Paris.
As he neared St. Martin's village, he passed a little peasant boy, in aworn blouse, walking toward the country; and had he known that this samelad was the Gabriel because of whom, at King Louis's order, he hadridden all the way from Paris, he would certainly have looked at the boywith keen interest.
While for his part, had Gabriel known that the strange horseman was amessenger from the king, and that he had that day played a veryimportant part in the affairs of the Viaud family,--had he knownthis,--he surely would have stood stock-still and opened his eyes widewith amazement!
But the messenger was absorbed in his own thoughts, and so rode swiftlyon; while poor Gabriel was too sad and wretched to pay much attention toany one.
As the lad drew near home, however, all at once he fancied he heard thebleating of sheep. At this he pricked up his ears and began to run, hisheart suddenly beating very fast with excitement!
When he reached the sheepfold, sure enough, there was no mistaking thesounds within. He opened the door and hurried through the thatched shed,noting with delight the rows of woolly backs glistening in the twilight,and then, bursting into the cottage, rushed up to his father and kissedand hugged him with all his might!
Indeed, Gabriel was so happy and excited that he did not realize that hewas not at all surprised with their good fortune. For miserable as hehad been for weeks, and though he had thought that he had quitedespaired of his prayer being answered, yet deep down in his heart,without knowing it, all the while he had cherished a strong hope that itwould be.
Nor was Brother Stephen surprised either, when, at barely daybreak thenext morning, before going to his work, Gabriel hurried up to the Abbeyand told him all about it. His face beamed with delight, however, and heseemed almost as happy over it all as Gabriel himself. He smiled, too,but said nothing, as the lad wondered over and over what God had done toCount Pierre, to make him willing to free his father and restore thesheep! He only said, as he gently patted Gabriel's hair:
"There, there, little one! the good God hath many ways of softeningmen's hearts, and never thou mind in what manner he hath chosen tomanage the Count Pierre!"
Just then one of the monks went past the open door, his arms full ofevergreens, and carrying in his hand a pot of the pretty white flowersthat the Norman peasant folk call Christmas roses. Seeing him, BrotherStephen told Gabriel that he must go and help the brothers trim theAbbey church for the joyous service of the morrow; and so with anotheraffectionate little pat, he went out to do his part in arranging theholiday greens and garlands and tall wax candles, while Gabriel hurriedoff to his work in the village.
The little boy was so happy, though, over the things that had happenedat home, that he went about all day in a sort of wondering dream. Andthat evening as he went home from his work, very tired, but stilldreaming, the early Christmas-eve stars shone and twinkled so radiantlyover his head and the snow sparkled so brightly under his feet, that hefairly tingled through and through with the nameless, magic happiness ofthe blessed season!
And when he reached home, and sat down next to his father while they atetheir scanty supper, they all felt so glad to be together again thatnobody minded that the pieces of black bread were smaller than ever,and that when the cold wind blew through the crevices of the cottagewalls, there was not enough fire on the hearth to keep them fromshivering.
Indeed, they were all so much happier than they had been for many weeks,that when Gabriel and the younger children went to bed, the latter, withmany little gurgles of laughter, arranged their little wooden shoes onthe hearth, just as they had always done on Christmas eve.
For they said to each other, Jean, and Margot, and little Guillaume,that surely the good God had not forgotten them after all! Had he notbrought back their father and the sheep? And surely he would tell thelittle Christ-child to bring them a few Christmas apples and nuts!
Gabriel, however, took no part in their talk, and he did not set hisshoes on the hearth with the others; not that he feared they would beforgotten, but rather because he thought that he had already asked forso much and been so generously answered, that he had had his share ofChristmas happiness.
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nbsp; His father was freed from prison, and the flock of sheep, with fiftymore than they had had before, were back in the fold; and though theywere not yet relieved from the tax, nor was their land restored to them,as he had prayed, yet he felt sure that these, too, would come about insome way.
And so, considering all these things, he did not quite like to set outhis wooden shoes, and thus invite the Christ-child to give him more; forhe knew the Christ-child had a great many shoes to attend to that night.So Gabriel, as he made himself ready for bed, pretended not to hear thechatter of his little brothers and sister, nor to notice what they weredoing.
When peasant Viaud, however, saw them standing their little empty shoesin front of the meagre fire, he bowed his head on his hands, and thetears trickled through his fingers. But the mother smiled softly toherself, as she kissed each of the children and tucked them into theirworn sheepskin covers.
Next morning, at the first peep of day, every one in the cottage waswide awake; and as soon as they opened their eyes, the children alljumped out of bed and ran to the hearth with little screams of delight.For there stood the little wooden shoes,--Gabriel's, too, though he hadnot put them there,--and even a larger one apiece for the father andmother, and the blessed Christ-child had not forgotten one!
Only instead of apples and nuts, they were filled with the mostwonderful bonbons; strange sugar birds, and animals, and candied fruitssuch as no peasant child in Normandy had ever before seen; for theywere sweetmeats that no one but the cooks of old Paris knew just how tomake.
And then, as with eager fingers the children drew out these marvels,down in the toe of each shoe they found a little porcupine of whitesugar with pink quills tipped with a tiny, gilded, candy crown; and lastof all, after each little porcupine, out tumbled a shining yellow goldpiece stamped with the likeness of King Louis.
Even the larger shoes were filled with bonbons, too, and from the toe ofthe mother's out dropped a gold piece, like the others, only larger. Butwhen the father, with clumsy hands, emptied his shoe, instead of a goldpiece, there fell out a small parchment roll fastened with a silkencord, and showing at one corner a wax seal bearing the print of thelittle royal porcupine and crown.
Peasant Viaud gazed at it for a few minutes, in utter bewilderment, andthen handing it to Gabriel, who was standing by, he said:
"Here, child, 'tis a bit of writing, and thou art the only one of us whocan read. See if Brother Stephen's lessons have taken thee far enough tomake out the meaning of this!"
Gabriel took the roll and eagerly untied the cord, and then he carefullyspelled out every word of the writing, which was signed by Count Pierrede Bouchage.
For it was the very same parchment which King Louis's messenger hadmade Count Pierre sign to prove that he had sold to the king, for acertain sum of gold, the old Viaud farm, together with a piece of goodland adjoining it; and then, at the end of the deed, as the writing wascalled, there were a few lines from King Louis himself, which said thatin honour of the blessed Christmas-time the king took pleasure inpresenting to peasant Viaud, and his heirs for ever, everything that hehad bought from Count Pierre.
When Gabriel had finished reading, no one spoke for a little while; itwas so hard to realize the crowning good fortune that had befallen them.Peasant Viaud looked fairly dazed, and the mother laughed and cried asshe snatched Gabriel to her and kissed him again and again. The youngerchildren did not understand what it all meant, and so went on munchingtheir sweetmeats without paying much attention to the little piece ofparchment which Gabriel still held in his hand.
As for Gabriel, he really had had no idea that any one could possibly beso happy as he himself was at that moment! He had not the least notionof how it had all come about; he only knew that his heart was fairlybursting with gratitude to the dear God who had answered his littleprayer so much more joyously and wonderfully than he had ever dared todream of!
In his excitement he ran out of the house and hurried into thesheepfold, where he patted the soft woolly backs of each of the sheep,and then he raced around the snowy meadows trying to realize that allthese belonged to his family for ever! And that Count Pierre could neveragain imprison his father or worry him with heavy taxes!
But the wonders of this wonderful day were not yet over; for presently,as Gabriel raised his eyes, he saw a strange horseman coming down theroad and looking inquiringly in the direction of the Viaud cottage. Thenseeing the boy standing in the meadow, the horseman called out:
"Ho, lad! Is this the farm of the peasant Viaud?"
"Yes, sir," answered Gabriel, coming up to the road; and then,
"Art thou Gabriel?" asked the rider, stopping and looking curiously atthe little boy.
When again Gabriel wonderingly answered, "Yes, sir," the strangerdismounted, and, after tying his horse, began deliberately unfasteningthe two fat saddle-bags hanging over the back of the latter; and loadinghimself with as much as he could carry, he gave Gabriel an armful, too,and walked toward the cottage.
To the surprised looks and questions of Gabriel's father and mother, heonly said that the Christ-child had been in the castle of the Lady Anneof Bretagne, and had ordered him to bring certain things to the familyof a Norman peasant boy named Gabriel Viaud.
And such delightful things as they were! There was a great roll ofthick, soft blue cloth, so that they could all be warmly clad withoutwaiting for the mother to spin the wool from the sheeps' backs. Therewere nice little squirrel-fur caps for all the children; there were moreyellow gold pieces; and then there was a large package of the mostenchanting sweetmeats, such as the Bretons make at Christmas-time;little "magi-cakes," as they were called, each cut in the shape of astar and covered with spices and sugar; curious old-fashioned candiesand sugared chestnuts; and a pretty basket filled with small roundloaves of the fine, white bread of Bretagne; only instead of theordinary baking, these loaves were of a special holiday kind, withraisins, and nuts, and dried sweet-locust blossoms sprinkled over thetop.
Indeed, perhaps never before had so marvellous a feast been spread undera peasant roof in Normandy! All were beside themselves with delight; andwhile the younger children were dancing round and round in happybewilderment, Gabriel snatched up a basket, and hurriedly filling itwith some of the choicest of the sweetmeats, started off at a brisk runfor the Abbey; for he wanted to share some of his Christmas happinesswith Brother Stephen.
When he reached the Abbey, his eyes bright with excitement, and hischeeks rosy from the crisp cold air, and poured out to Brother Stephenthe story of their fresh good fortune, the monk laughed with delight,and felt that he, too, was having the happiest Christmas he had everknown.
And then, by and by, when he took Gabriel by the hand and led him intothe Abbey church for the beautiful Christmas service, as the little boyknelt on the stone floor and gazed around at the lovely garlands ofgreen, and the twinkling candles and white Christmas roses on the altar,half-hidden by the clouds of fragrant incense that floated up from thecensers the little acolytes were swinging to and fro,--as he listened tothe glorious music from the choir, and above all, as he thought of howthe dear God had answered his prayer, the tears sprang to his eyes fromvery joy and gratitude! And perhaps that Christmas morning no one in allFrance, not even King Louis himself, was quite so happy as the littlepeasant boy, Gabriel Viaud.