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Encouraged by this, and encircled by the protecting arm of the priest, Guillaume played them every one. When he had finished, Monsieur le Cure spoke. “Thou hast had none to teach thee, my child—that I know, and yet thou hast learned to play most sweetly. Wilt thou not play in the church, then, for the shepherds at the Feast of Noel? Our good Francois can do so no more, because his fingers have become too stiff to make the notes.”
吉堯姆深受鼓舞，在牧師的護臂下，他把音樂一一演奏出來。演奏完后，屈爾先生開口了。“我的孩子，你沒有人教你，這我知道，可是你已經學會了最甜美的樂曲。”那么，在諾埃爾的宴會上，你愿意在教堂里為牧人們演奏嗎? 我們善良的弗朗索瓦斯再也不能這樣做了，因為他的手指已經僵硬，不能演奏了。”
Guillaume, his flute clutched tightly to his breast, was too overcome with happiness to answer in words, but he nodded his head slowly, and the kindly priest understood.
紀堯姆把笛子緊緊地抓在胸前，高興得說不出話來，但是他慢慢地點了點頭，善良的牧師明白了。
“And now, my child,” continued Monsieur le Cure, smiling upon him, “we will say nothing of this to anyone, but will keep it to be a surprise to the people of Maussane at the Feast of Noel.”
“現在，我的孩子，”屈爾先生繼續說道，“我們不會把這件事告訴任何人，但在諾埃爾的宴會上，會讓茂森的人們大吃一驚。”
