“Alas! my friends, I hoped indeed that this honoured ceremony of our fathers would have been more complete, and that my brother the commander would have brought with him my good brother Elzear. But that is not to be thought of for this night at least.” “The Lord grant that the commander may arrive soon with his black galley,” said one of the ladies to the baron. “These wicked pirates, whom we all dread, would not dare make a descent if they knew he was in port.” “The pirates to the devil, good cousin!” cried the baron, gaily. “The watchman is spying them from the height of Cape l’Aigle; at his first signal all the coast will be in arms. The port of La Ciotat is armed; the citizens and fishermen are keeping Christmas with only one hand, they have the other on their muskets; my cannon and small guns are loaded, and ready to fire on the entrance to the port, if these sea-robbers dare show themselves. Manjour! my guests and cousins, if I had obeyed the Marshal of Vitry, at this hour my house would be disarmed and out of condition to defend the city.” “And you did very bravely, baron,” said the lord of Signerol, “to act as you did. Now the example has been given and the marshal will meddle no longer with our affairs.” “Manjour! I hope so indeed. If he does, we will meddle with his,” said the baron. “But where is my young comrade of the _cachofué?_” added he. “I am the eldest, but I must have the youngest to go for the Christmas log.” “Here is the dear child, father,” said Reine, leading a beautiful boy of six years, with large blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and lovely curls, up to the baron. His mother, a cousin of the baron, looked at the boy with pride, not unmixed with fear, for she suspected that he might not be equal to the complicated rôle necessary to be played in this patriarchal ceremony. “Are you sure you understand what is to be done, my little Cæsar?” asked the baron, bending over the little boy. “Yes, yes, monseigneur. Last year, at grandfather’s house, I carried the Christmas log,” replied the child, with a capable and resolute air. “The linnet will become a hawk, I promise you, my cousin,” said the baron to the mother, delighted with the child’s self-confidence. Raimond V. then took the little fellow by the hand, and, followed by his guests, he descended to the door of Maison-Forte, which opened into the inner court, before beginning the ceremony of the _cachofué_. All the inmates and dependents of the castle, labourers, farmers, fishermen, vine-dressers, servants, women, children, and old men, were assembled in the court. Although the light of the moon was quite bright, a large number of torches, made of resinous wood fastened to poles, illuminated the court and the interior buildings of Maison-Forte. In the middle of the court were collected the combustibles necessary to kindle an immense pile of wood, which was to be set on fire the same moment that the _cachofué_ in the hall of the dais was lighted.