e little King Jesus is born in the manger, upon
the straw."

"Sylvestre Ker will surely go with the shepherds."

"Not at all; Sylvestre Ker will not go."

"Good Christian he was."

"Good Christian he is no longer."

"He has forgotten the name of Joseph."

"And the name of Mary."

"No, no, no!"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"He will go!"

"He will not go!"

"He will go, since he promised Dame Josserande."

"He will not go, since Matheline told him to stay."

"My friend, my friend, to-night Sylvestre Ker will find the golden
secret."

"To-night, my friend, my friend, he will win the heart of the one he
loves."

And the invisible spirits, thus disputing, sported through the air,
mounting, descending, whirling around like atoms of dust in a sunbeam,
from the flag-stones of the floor to the rafters of the roof.

Inside the furnace, in the crucible, some other thing responded, but it
could not be well heard, as the crucible had been hermetically sealed.

"Go out from here, you wicked crowd," cried Sylvestre Ker, sweeping
around with a broom of holly branches. "What are you doing here? Go
outside, cursed spirits, damned souls--go, go!"

From all the corners of the room came laughter; Matheline seemed
everywhere. Suddenly there was profound silence, and the wind from the
sea brought the sound of the bells of Plouharnel, ringing the second
peal for the midnight Mass.

"My friend, what are they saying?"

"They say Christmas, my friend--Christmas, Christmas, Christmas!"

"Not at all! They say, Gold, gold, gold!"

"You lie, my friend!"

"My friend, you lie!"

And the other voices, those that were grumbling in the interior of the
furnace, swelled and puffed.

The fire, that no person was blowing, kept up by itself, hot as the soul
of a forge should be. The crucible became red, and the stones of the
furnace were dyed a deep scarlet.

In vain did Sylvestre Ker sweep with his holly broom; between the
branches, covered with sharp leaves, the spirits passed,--nothing could
catch them; and the heat was so great the boy was bathed in
perspiration.

After the bells had finished their second peal, he said,--

"I am stifling. I will open the window to let out the heat as well as
this herd of evil spirits."

But as soon as he opened the window, the whole country commenced to
laugh under its white mantle of snow--barren heath, ploughed land, Druid
stones, even to the enormous oaks of the forest, with their glisteni