“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, tomorrow 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?”