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“The flute of old Guillaume!” exclaimed Monsieur le Cure, leaping to his feet in amazement. “Aye, the flute of old Guillaume, and the music for the shepherds,” stammered the puzzled Francois. “But whence comes it? Who can play it thus?”
“那是老纪尧姆的长笛！”屈尔先生惊奇地跳了起来，喊道。“是啊，老纪尧姆的笛子，牧羊人的音乐，”迷惑不解的弗朗索瓦斯结结巴巴地说。“但它从何而来？谁能这样演奏呢？”
Monsieur le Cure did not stop to wonder. He went directly to the window, and looked out. There, with his back to the wall of the house, was Guillaume, playing bis very best.
屈尔先生没有停下来思考。他径直走到窗前向外望去。在那里，纪尧姆背靠着墙，他演奏得非常好。
“Guillaume/’ breathed Monsieur le Cure softly, “little Guillaume.”
“纪尧姆/ '本堂先生轻声地说，'小纪尧姆。”
At the sound all Guillaume’s bashfulness suddenly returned. The music ceased instantly, and he stood crestfallen and trernbling at his daring.
一听到这声音，纪尧姆的羞耻心又突然恢复了。音乐立刻停止了，他垂头丧气地站在那里，为自己的大胆而发愣。
“Come in, little Guillaume,” invited Monsieur le Cure. “I would speak with thee.”
“进来，小纪尧姆，”屈尔先生邀请他。“我想和你谈谈。”
Guillaume obeyed.
纪尧姆进去了。
“Thou hast given us the music for the shepherds well,” commended Monsieur le Cure, drawing the boy to him. “Canst thou not play for me, also, a noel or two?”
“你让我们听到了牧羊的歌，”屈尔先生把小纪尧姆拉到他身边称赞他。“你能为我弹奏一两首吗？”
