when he had lured them all from their parents —
Christophe and Jan and le tout petit Loup — giving
them bunches of sweet grapes to eat and rough bread,
and mUk to drink at the farmhouse, telling them
stories about the old gods, and about the nymphs who
so dearly loved honey; must remind him of Loup's
remark that same evening when, sitting beside his
mother at supper, he had loudly declared that his
name had been changed by the nymphs, so that now
he was not Loup but Bacchus. Eusebe would chuckle
and slap his thigh — that incident never failed to
delight him: Ho, hoi, what an imp le tout petit
Loup! As clever he was as the black lamb of Satan!
And from this they might fall to talking of things that
belonged to Christophe's earliest childhood, for the
boy liked to dwell on those happier days since they
seemed to provide an escape from the present* But
one event he would never discuss, to the great annoy-
ance of old Eusebe who having been generous longed
to be praised — he would never discuss his first pair
of sandals.