Nobody's Girl Part 11

The cart pa.s.sed. Then they went on with their work even more quickly. In spite of their feverish haste it seemed to little Perrine that they would never be finished. Every moment she feared that someone would come and catch them and she be arrested with them.

If she could only get away. She looked about her to see if it were possible for her to leave the hut. This could easily be done, but then they would be sure to see her once she was on the road. It would be better to remain where she was.

She lay down again and pretended to sleep. As it was impossible for her to go out without being seen, it was wiser to pretend that she had not seen anything if they should come into the hut.

For some time they went on cutting the artichokes. Then there was another noise on the road. It was their cart coming back. It stopped at the end of the field. In a few minutes the baskets were all stowed in the cart and the thieves jumped in and drove off hurriedly in the direction of Paris.

If she had known the hour she could have slept until dawn, but not knowing how long she had been there, she thought that it would be better if she went on her way. In the country people are about at an early hour. If, when day broke, the laborers going to work saw her coming out of the hut, or even if they saw her round about the field, they might suspect her of having been with the thieves and arrest her.

So she slipped out of the hut, ears on the alert for the slightest noise, eyes glancing in every direction.

She reached the main road, then hurried off. The stars in the skies above were disappearing, and from the east a faint streak of light lit the shadows of the night and announced the approach of day.

CHAPTER V

STORMS AND FEARS

She had not walked far before she saw in the distance a black ma.s.s silhouetted against the dawning light to the grey sky. Chimneys, houses and steeples rose up in the coming dawn, leaving the rest of the landscape obscure in the shadows.

She reached the first straggling cottages of the village. Instinctively she trod more softly on the paved road. This was a useless precaution, for with the exception of the cats which ran about the streets, everyone slept, and her little footsteps only awoke a few dogs who barked at her behind closed gates.

She was famished; she was weak and faint with hunger.

What would become of her if she dropped unconscious? She was afraid she might soon. So that this would not happen, she thought it better to rest a minute, and as she was now pa.s.sing before a barn full of hay, she went in quietly and threw herself down on the soft bed. The rest, the warmth, and also the sweet smell of the hay, soothed her and soon she slept.

When she awoke the sun was already high in the heavens and was casting its rays over the fields where men and women were busily at work.

The pangs of hunger were now more acute than ever. Her head whirled; she was so giddy that she could scarcely see where she went as she staggered on. She had just reached the top of a hill, and before her, close by, was the village with its shops. She would spend her last sou for a piece of bread! She had heard of people finding money on the road; perhaps she would find a coin tomorrow; anyhow, she must have a piece of bread now.

She looked carefully at the last sou she possessed. Poor little girl, she did not know the difference between real money and false, and although she thought this sou looked real, she was very nervous when she entered the first baker shop that she came across.

"Will you cut me a sou's worth of bread?" she asked, timidly.

The man behind the counter took from the basket a little penny roll and handed it to her. Instead of stretching out her hand, she hesitated.

"If you'll cut a piece for me," she said, "it doesn't matter if it is not today's bread."

The baker gave her a large piece of bread that had been on the counter for two or three days.

What did that matter? The great thing was that it was larger than the little penny roll. It was worth two rolls.

As soon as it was in her hand her mouth filled with water. But she would not eat it until she had got out of the village. This she did very quickly. As soon as she had pa.s.sed the last house, she took her little knife from her pocket and made a cross on the piece of bread so as to be able to cut it into four equal parts. She took one piece, keeping the three others for the three following days, hoping that it might last her until she reached Amiens.

She had calculated this as she had hurried through the village, and it had seemed such an easy matter. But scarcely had she swallowed a mouthful of her little piece of bread than she felt that the strongest arguments had no power against hunger. She was famished! She must eat!

The second piece followed the first, the third followed the second.

Never had her will power been so weak. She was hungry; she must have it ... all ... all. Her only excuse was that the pieces were so tiny. When all four were put together, the whole only weighed a half a pound. And a whole pound would not have been enough for her in her ravenous condition. The day before she had only had a little cup of soup that Carp had given her. She devoured the fourth piece.

She went on her way. Although she had only just eaten her piece of bread, a terrible thought obsessed her. Where would she next get a mouthful? She now knew what torture she would have to go through ... the pangs of hunger were terrible to endure. Where should she get her next meal? She walked through two more villages. She was getting thirsty now, very thirsty. Her tongue was dry, her lips parched. She came to the last house in the village, but she did not dare ask for a gla.s.s of water. She had noticed that the people looked at her curiously, and even the dogs seemed to show their teeth at the ragged picture she presented.

She must walk on. The sun was very hot now, and her thirst became more intense as she tramped along the white road. There was not a tree along the road, and little clouds of dust rose around her every instant, making her lips more parched. Oh, for a drink of water! The palate of her mouth seemed hard, like a corn.

The fact that she was thirsty had not worried her at first. One did not have to go into a shop to buy water. Anybody could have it. When she saw a brook or a river she had only to make a cup of her hands and drink all she wanted. But she had walked miles in the dust and could see no sign of water. At last she picked up some little round stones and put them in her mouth. Her tongue seemed to be moister while she kept them there.

She changed them from time to time, hoping that she would soon come to a brook.

Then suddenly the atmosphere changed, and although the heat was still suffocating, the sun was hidden. Thick black clouds filled the sky. A storm was coming on, there would be rain, and she would be able to hold her mouth up to it, or she could stoop down to the puddles that it made and drink!

The wind came up. A terrific swirl, carrying clouds of dust and leaves, swept over the country and battered down the crops, uprooting plants and shrubs in its mad fracas. Perrine could not withstand this whirlwind. As she was lifted off her feet, a deafening crash of thunder shook the earth. Throwing herself down in the ditch, she laid flat on her stomach, covering her mouth and her eyes with her two small hands. The thunder rolled heavily on.

A moment ago she had been mad with thirst and had prayed that the storm would break quickly; now she realized that the storm would not only bring thunder and rain, but lightning--terrible flashes of lightning that almost blinded her.

And there would be torrents of rain and hail! Where could she go? Her dress would be soaked, and how could she dry it?

She clambered out of the ditch. In the distance she saw a wood. She thought that she might find a nook there where she could take shelter.

She had no time to lose. It was very dark. The claps of thunder became more frequent and louder, and the vivid lightning played fantastically on the black sky.

Would she be able to reach the wood before the storm broke? She ran as quickly as her panting breath would allow, now and again casting a look behind her at the black clouds which seemed to be sweeping down upon her.

She had seen terrible storms in the mountains when travelling with her father and mother, but they were with her then; now she was alone. Not a soul near her in this desolate country. Fortunately the wind was behind her; it blew her along, at times carrying her off her feet. If she could only keep up this pace; the storm had not caught up with her yet.

Holding her elbows against her little body and bending forward, she ran on ... but the storm also made greater strides.

At this moment came a crash, louder and heavier. The storm was just over her now and the ground around her was cleaved with blue flames. It was better to stop running now; far better be drenched than struck down by lightning.

Soon a few drops of rain fell. Fortunately she was nearing the wood, and now she could distinguish clearly the great trees. A little more courage. Many times her father had told her that if one kept one's courage in times of danger one stood a better chance of being saved. She kept on.

When at last she entered the forest it was all so black and dark she could scarcely make out anything. Then suddenly a flash of lightning dazzled her, and in the vivid glare she thought she saw a little cabin not far away to which led a bad road hollowed with deep ruts. Again the lightning flashed across the darkness, and she saw that she had not made a mistake. About fifty steps farther on there was a little hut made of f.a.ggots, that the woodcutters had built.

She made a final dash; then, at the end of her strength, worn out and breathless, she sank down on the underbrush that covered the floor.

She had not regained her breath when a terrible noise filled the forest.

The crash, mingled with the splintering of wood, was so terrific that she thought her end had come. The trees bent their trunks, twisting and writhing, and the dead branches fell everywhere with a dull, crackling sound.

Could her hut withstand this fury? She crawled to the opening. She had no time to think--a blue flame, followed by a frightful crash, threw her over, blinded and dazed. When she came to herself, astonished to find that she was still alive, she looked out and saw that a giant oak that stood near the hut had been struck by lightning. In falling its length the trunk had been stripped of its bark from top to bottom, and two of the biggest branches were twisted round its roots.

She crept back, trembling, terrified at the thought that Death had been so near her, so near that its terrible breath had laid her low. As she stood there, pale and shaking, she heard an extraordinary rolling sound, more powerful than that of an express train. It was the rain and the hail which was beating down on the forest. The cabin cracked from top to bottom; the roof bent under the fury of the tempest, but it did not fall in. No house, however solid, could be to her what this little hut was at this moment, and she was mistress of it.

She grew calm; she would wait here until the storm had pa.s.sed. A sense of well-being stole over her, and although the thunder continued to rumble and the rain came down in a deluge, and the wind whistled through the trees, and the unchained tempest went on its mad way through the air and on the earth, she felt safe in her little hut. Then she made a pillow for her head from the underbrush, and stretching herself out, she fell asleep.

When she awoke the thunder had stopped, but the rain was still falling in a fine drizzle. The forest, with its solitude and silence, did not terrify her. She was refreshed from her long sleep and she liked her little cabin so much that she thought she would spend the night there.

She at least had a roof over her head and a dry bed.

She did not know how long she had slept, but that did not matter; she would know when night came.

She had not washed herself since she had left Paris, and the dust which had covered her from head to foot made her skin smart. Now she was alone, and there was plenty of water in the ditch outside and she would profit by it.