And Bichonne jumped up at her to shoulder height as if to say:
"Shall I go?"
"Down!" said Brisquette. "Listen, Biscotine, go up to the mound
to see if your father is on his way home. And you, Biscotin,
follow the path along the pond and take good care if part of the
fence is missing. And shout out loud: Brisquet! Brisquet! Get
down, Bichonne!"
The children went their separate ways and when they had met up at
the place where the road to the pond crosses that to the mound they
spoke:
"Damn it," said Biscotin, "I'll find our poor father or the wolves
can make a meal of me."
"Damn me too," said Biscotine. "They can eat me too while they're
at it."
While all this was going on, Brisquet had come home via the main
road to Puchay by way of the Asses' Cross and Mortemer Abbey as he
had a bundle of thinly chopped firewood to deliver to Jean Paquier.
"Have you seen our children?" said Brisquette.
"Our children?" said Brisquet. "Our children? My God! Have they
gone out?"
"I sent them as far as the mound and the pond to meet you, but you
came by a different route."
Brisquet did not put down his sharp axe. He started to run in the
direction of the mound.
"Why don't you take Bichonne with you?" Brisquette shouted after him.
But Bichonne was already way ahead of him.
She was so far ahead that Brisquet soon lost sight of her. And it did
him no good to shout: "Biscotin! Biscotine!" There was no answer.
He started to cry then, for he imagined that his children were a lost
cause.
After running for a long long time, it seemed to him that he could hear
Bichonne barking. He walked straight towards the thicket, to the place
whee he had heard her and went in with his sharp axe raised.
Bichonne had got there just as Biscotin and Biscotine were about to be
devoured by a large wolf. She had thrown herself forward barking so that
her barks could alert Brisquet.
Brisquet with a single blow of his sharp axe struck the wolf stone dead,
but it was too late for him to save Bichonne. She was dead already.
Brisquet, Biscotin and Biscotine joined Brisquette. There was great
rejoicing, yet they all wept tears. They all looked to see if Bichonne
was there and she wasn't.
Brisquet buried Bichonne at the bottom of his little garden under a big
stone on which the schoolmaster wrote in Latin:
HERE LIES BICHONNE,
BRISQUET'S POOR DOG.
And from that time on the following proverb came into common usage:
To be wretched like Brisquet's dog that only went once to the wood and
was eaten by the wolf.