CHAPTER V
STORMS AND FEARS
She had not walked far before she saw in the distance a black masssilhouetted against the dawning light to the grey sky. Chimneys, housesand steeples rose up in the coming dawn, leaving the rest of thelandscape obscure in the shadows.
She reached the first straggling cottages of the village. Instinctivelyshe trod more softly on the paved road. This was a useless precaution,for with the exception of the cats which ran about the streets, everyoneslept, and her little footsteps only awoke a few dogs who barked at herbehind closed gates.
She was famished; she was weak and faint with hunger.
What would become of her if she dropped unconscious? She was afraid shemight soon. So that this would not happen, she thought it better to resta minute, and as she was now passing before a barn full of hay, she wentin 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 castingits 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; shewas so giddy that she could scarcely see where she went as she staggeredon. 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 pieceof bread! She had heard of people finding money on the road; perhaps shewould 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, andalthough she thought this sou looked real, she was very nervous when sheentered 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 andhanded 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 isnot today's bread."
The baker gave her a large piece of bread that had been on the counterfor two or three days.
What did that matter? The great thing was that it was larger than thelittle penny roll. It was worth two rolls.
As soon as it was in her hand her mouth filled with water. But she wouldnot eat it until she had got out of the village. This she did veryquickly. As soon as she had passed the last house, she took her littleknife from her pocket and made a cross on the piece of bread so as to beable to cut it into four equal parts. She took one piece, keeping thethree others for the three following days, hoping that it might last heruntil she reached Amiens.
She had calculated this as she had hurried through the village, and ithad seemed such an easy matter. But scarcely had she swallowed amouthful of her little piece of bread than she felt that the strongestarguments 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. Whenall four were put together, the whole only weighed a half a pound. And awhole pound would not have been enough for her in her ravenouscondition. The day before she had only had a little cup of soup thatCarp had given her. She devoured the fourth piece.
She went on her way. Although she had only just eaten her piece ofbread, a terrible thought obsessed her. Where would she next get amouthful? She now knew what torture she would have to go through ... thepangs of hunger were terrible to endure. Where should she get her nextmeal? She walked through two more villages. She was getting thirsty now,very thirsty. Her tongue was dry, her lips parched. She came to thelast house in the village, but she did not dare ask for a glass ofwater. She had noticed that the people looked at her curiously, and eventhe 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 moreintense as she tramped along the white road. There was not a tree alongthe road, and little clouds of dust rose around her every instant,making her lips more parched. Oh, for a drink of water! The palate ofher mouth seemed hard, like a corn.
The fact that she was thirsty had not worried her at first. One did nothave to go into a shop to buy water. Anybody could have it. When she sawa brook or a river she had only to make a cup of her hands and drink allshe wanted. But she had walked miles in the dust and could see no signof water. At last she picked up some little round stones and put them inher 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 abrook.
Then suddenly the atmosphere changed, and although the heat was stillsuffocating, the sun was hidden. Thick black clouds filled the sky. Astorm was coming on, there would be rain, and she would be able to holdher mouth up to it, or she could stoop down to the puddles that it madeand 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 andshrubs in its mad fracas. Perrine could not withstand this whirlwind. Asshe was lifted off her feet, a deafening crash of thunder shook theearth. Throwing herself down in the ditch, she laid flat on her stomach,covering her mouth and her eyes with her two small hands. The thunderrolled heavily on.
A moment ago she had been mad with thirst and had prayed that the stormwould break quickly; now she realized that the storm would not onlybring thunder and rain, but lightning--terrible flashes of lightningthat almost blinded her.
And there would be torrents of rain and hail! Where could she go? Herdress would be soaked, and how could she dry it?
She clambered out of the ditch. In the distance she saw a wood. Shethought 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 becamemore frequent and louder, and the vivid lightning played fantasticallyon the black sky.
Would she be able to reach the wood before the storm broke? She ran asquickly as her panting breath would allow, now and again casting a lookbehind her at the black clouds which seemed to be sweeping down uponher.
She had seen terrible storms in the mountains when travelling with herfather and mother, but they were with her then; now she was alone. Nota soul near her in this desolate country. Fortunately the wind wasbehind her; it blew her along, at times carrying her off her feet. Ifshe could only keep up this pace; the storm had not caught up with heryet.
Holding her elbows against her little body and bending forward, she ranon ... but the storm also made greater strides.
At this moment came a crash, louder and heavier. The storm was just overher now and the ground around her was cleaved with blue flames. It wasbetter to stop running now; far better be drenched than struck down bylightning.
Soon a few drops of rain fell. Fortunately she was nearing the wood, andnow she could distinguish clearly the great trees. A little morecourage. Many times her father had told her that if one kept one'scourage in times of danger one stood a better chance of being saved. Shekept on.
When at last she entered the forest it was all so black and dark shecould scarcely make out anything. Then suddenly a flash of lightningdazzled her, and in the vivid glare she thought she saw a little cabinnot far away to which led a bad road hollowed with deep ruts. Again thelightning flashed across the darkness, and she saw that she had not madea mistake. About fifty steps farther on there was a little hut made offaggots, that the woodcutters had built.
She made a final dash; then, at the end of her strength, worn out andbreathless, 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 thatshe thought her end had come. The trees bent their trunks, twisting andwrithing, and the dead branches fell everywhere with a dull, cracklingsound.
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Could her hut withstand this fury? She crawled to the opening. She hadno time to think--a blue flame, followed by a frightful crash, threw herover, blinded and dazed. When she came to herself, astonished to findthat she was still alive, she looked out and saw that a giant oak thatstood near the hut had been struck by lightning. In falling its lengththe trunk had been stripped of its bark from top to bottom, and two ofthe biggest branches were twisted round its roots.
She crept back, trembling, terrified at the thought that Death had beenso near her, so near that its terrible breath had laid her low. As shestood there, pale and shaking, she heard an extraordinary rolling sound,more powerful than that of an express train. It was the rain and thehail which was beating down on the forest. The cabin cracked from top tobottom; the roof bent under the fury of the tempest, but it did not fallin. No house, however solid, could be to her what this little hut was atthis moment, and she was mistress of it.
She grew calm; she would wait here until the storm had passed. A senseof well-being stole over her, and although the thunder continued torumble and the rain came down in a deluge, and the wind whistled throughthe trees, and the unchained tempest went on its mad way through the airand on the earth, she felt safe in her little hut. Then she made apillow for her head from the underbrush, and stretching herself out, shefell asleep.
When she awoke the thunder had stopped, but the rain was still fallingin a fine drizzle. The forest, with its solitude and silence, did notterrify her. She was refreshed from her long sleep and she liked herlittle 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; shewould know when night came.
She had not washed herself since she had left Paris, and the dust whichhad covered her from head to foot made her skin smart. Now she wasalone, and there was plenty of water in the ditch outside and she wouldprofit by it.
In her pocket she had, beside her map and her mother's certificate, afew little things tied up in a rag. There was a piece of soap, a smallcomb, a thimble, and a spool of thread, in which she had stuck twoneedles. She undid her packet; then taking off her vest, her shoes, andher stockings, she leaned over the ditch, in which the water flowedclear, and soaped her face, shoulders and feet. For a towel she had onlythe rag she had used to tie up her belongings, and it was neither bignor thick, but it was better than nothing.
This _toilette_ did her almost as much good as her sleep. She combed hergolden hair in two big braids and let them hang over her shoulders. Ifit were not for the little pain in her stomach, and the few torn placesin her shoes, which had been the cause of her sore feet, she would havebeen quite at ease in mind and body.
She was hungry, but there was nothing she could do. She could not find abit of nourishment in this cabin, and as it was still raining, she feltthat she ought not to leave this shelter until the next day.
Then when night came her hunger became more intense, till finally shebegan to cut some twigs and nibble on them, but they were hard andbitter, and after chewing on them for a few minutes she threw them away.She tried the leaves; they went down easier.
While she ate her meal and darned her stockings, night came on. Soon allwas dark and silent. She could hear no other sound than that of theraindrops falling from the branches.
Although she had made up her mind to spend the night there, sheexperienced a feeling of fright at being all alone in this black forest.True, she had spent a part of the day in the same place, running noother danger than that of being struck, but the woods in the daytime arenot like the woods at night, with the solemn silence and the mysteriousshadows, which make one conjure up the vision of so many weird things.
What was in the woods? she wondered. Wolves, perhaps!
At this thought she became wide awake, and jumping up, she found a bigstick, which she cut to a point with her knife; then she strewedbranches and fagots all around her, piling them high. She could at leastdefend herself behind her rampart.
Reassured, she laid down again, and it was not long before she wasasleep.
The song of a bird awoke her. She recognized at once the sweet, shrillnotes of a blackbird. Day was breaking. She began to shake, for she waschilled to the bone. The dampness of the night had made her clothes aswet as though she had been through a shower.
She jumped to her feet and shook herself violently like a dog. She feltthat she ought to move about, but she did not want to go on her way yet,for it was not yet light enough for her to study the sky to see if itwere going to rain again. To pass the time, and still more with the wishto be on the move, she arranged the fagots which she had disturbed thenight before. Then she combed her hair and washed herself in the ditch,which was full of water.
When she had finished the sun had risen, and the sky gleamed bluethrough the branches of the trees. There was not the slightest cloud tobe seen. She must go.
Although she had darned her stockings well which had worn away throughthe holes in her shoes, the continual tramp, tramp, tramp, made herlittle feet ache. After a time, however, she stepped out with a regularstep on the road, which had been softened by the rain, and the rays fromthe beautiful sun fell upon her back and warmed her.
Never had she seen such a lovely morning. The storm, which had washedthe roads and the fields, had given new life to the plants. Surely thiswas a good omen. She was full of hope.
Her imagination began to soar on wings. She hoped that somebody had hada hole in their pockets and had lost some money, and that she could findit on the road. She hoped she might find something, not a purse full,because she would have to try to find the owner, but just a little coin,one penny, or perhaps ten cents. She even thought that she might findsome work to do, something that could bring her in a few cents.
She needed so little to be able to live for three or four days.
She trudged along with her eyes fixed on the ground, but neither acopper nor a silver coin did she see, and neither did she meet anybodywho could give her work.
Oh, for something to eat! She was famished. Again and again she had tosit down by the wayside, she was so weak from lack of food.
She wondered if she found nothing would she have to sit down by the roadand die.
Finally she came to a field and saw four young girls picking peas. Apeasant woman seemed to be in charge.
Gathering courage, she crossed over the road and walked towards thewoman. But the woman stopped her before she could reach her.
"What cher want?" she shouted.
"I want to know if I can help, too," answered Perrine.
"We don't want no one!"
"You can give me just what you wish."
"Where d'ye come from?"
"From Paris."
One of the girls raised her head and cast her an angry look.
"The galavanter!" she cried, "she comes from Paris to try to get ourjob."
"I told yer we don't want nobody," said the woman again.
There was nothing to do but to go on her way, which she did with a heavyheart.
"Look out! A cop's comin'!" cried one of the girls.
Perrine turned her head quickly, and they all burst out laughing, amusedat the joke.
She had not gone far before she had to stop. She could not see the roadfor the tears which filled her eyes. What had she done to those girlsthat they should be so mean to her?
Evidently it was as difficult for tramps to get work as it was for themto find pennies. She did not dare ask again for a job. She dragged herfeet along, only hurrying when she was passing through the villages sothat she could escape the stares.
She was almost prostrated when she reached a wood. It was mid-day andthe sun was scorching; there was not a breath of air. She was exhaustedand dripping with perspiration. Then her heart seemed to stop and shefell to the ground, unable to move or think.
A wagon coming up behind her passed by.
"This heat'll kill one," shouted the
driver.
In a half conscious state she caught his words. They came to her like ina dream; it was as though sentence had been passed upon her.
So she was to die? She had thought so herself, but now a messenger ofDeath was saying so.
Well, she would die. She could keep up no longer. Her father was dead,and her mother was dead, now she was going to die. A cruel thoughtflitted through her dull brain. She wondered why she could not have diedwith them rather than in a ditch like a poor animal.
She tried to make a last effort to get to the wood where she could finda spot to lie down for her last sleep, somewhere away from the road. Shemanaged to drag herself into the wood, and there she found a littlegrassy spot where violets were growing. She laid down under a largetree, her head on her arm, just as she did at night when she went tosleep.