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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.”
吉尧姆深受鼓舞，在牧师的护臂下，他把音乐一一演奏出来。演奏完后，屈尔先生开口了。“我的孩子，你没有人教你，这我知道，可是你已经学会了最甜美的乐曲。”那么，在诺埃尔的宴会上，你愿意在教堂里为牧人们演奏吗? 我们善良的弗朗索瓦斯再也不能这样做了，因为他的手指已经僵硬，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.
纪尧姆把笛子紧紧地抓在胸前，高兴得说不出话来，但是他慢慢地点了点头，善良的牧师明白了。
“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.”
“现在，我的孩子，”屈尔先生继续说道，“我们不会把这件事告诉任何人，但在诺埃尔的宴会上，会让茂森的人们大吃一惊。”
