My mother had been watching us through the window; she suspected that some plot was hatching between us. “I have no patience with you, Mocquet,” she said, as we went in, “you have no sense or discretion.” “In what way, Madame?” asked Mocquet. “To go exciting him in the way you do; he thinks too much of sport as it is.” “Nay, Madame, it is with him, as with dogs of breed; his father was a sportsman, he is a sportsman, and his son will be a sportsman after him; you must make up your mind to that.” “And supposing some harm should come to him?” “Harm come to him with me? With Mocquet? No, indeed! I will answer for it with my own life, that he shall be safe. Harm happen to him, to him, the General’s son? Never, never, never!” But my poor mother shook her head; I went to her and flung my arms round her neck. “Mother, dearest,” I cried, “please let me go.” “You will load his gun for him, then, Mocquet?” “Have no fear, sixty grains of powder, not a grain more or less, and a twenty to the pound bullet.” “And you will not leave him?” “I will stay by him like his shadow.” “You will keep him near you?” “Between my legs.” “I give him into your sole charge, Mocquet.” “And he shall be given back to you safe and sound. Now, Monsieur Alexandre, gather up your traps, and let us be off; your mother has given her permission.” “You are not taking him away this evening, Mocquet.” “I must, Madame, to-morrow morning will be too late to fetch him; we must hunt the wolf at dawn.” “The wolf! it is for a wolf-hunt that you are asking for him to go with you?” “Are you afraid that the wolf will eat him?” “Mocquet! Mocquet!” “But when I tell you that I will be answerable for everything!” “And where will the poor child sleep?” “With father Mocquet, of course, he will have a good mattress laid on the floor, and sheets white as those which God has spread over the fields, and two good warm coverlids; I promise you that he shall not catch cold.” “I shall be all right, mother, you may be sure! Now then, Mocquet, I am ready.” “And you don’t even give me a kiss, you poor boy, you!” “Indeed, yes, dear mother, and a good many more than one!” And I threw myself on my mother’s neck, stifling her with my caresses as I clasped her in my arms. “And when shall I see you again?” “Oh, do not be uneasy if he does not return before to-morrow evening.” “How, to-morrow evening! and you spoke of starting at dawn!” “At dawn for the wolf; but if we miss him, the lad must have a shot or two at the wild ducks on the marshes of Vallue.” “I see! you are going to drown him for me!” “By the name of all that’s good, Madame, if I was not speaking to the General’s widow--I should say----” “What Mocquet? What would you say?” “That you will make nothing but a wretched milksop of your boy.... If the General’s mother had been always behind him, pulling at his coat-tails, as you are behind this child, he would never even have had the courage to cross the sea to France.”