CHAPTER VI
THE RESCUE
Something warm passing over her face made her open her eyes. Dimly shesaw a large velvety head bending over her. In terror she tried to throwherself on one side, but a big tongue licked her cheek and held her tothe grass. So quickly had this happened that she had not had time torecognize the big velvety head which belonged to a donkey, but while thegreat tongue continued to lick her face and hands she was able to lookup at it.
Palikare! It was dear, dear Palikare! She threw her arms around herdonkey's neck and burst into tears.
"My darling, dear, darling Palikare," she murmured.
When he heard his name he stopped licking her and lifting his head hesent forth five or six triumphant brays of happiness. Then, as thoughthat was not enough to express his contentment, he let out five or sixmore, but not quite so loud.
Perrine then noticed that he was without a harness or a rope.
While she stroked him with her hand and he bent his long ears down toher, she heard a hoarse voice calling:
"What yer found, old chap? I'll be there in a minute. I'm comin', oldboy."
SOMETHING WARM PASSING OVER HER FACE MADE HER OPEN HEREYES.]
There was a quick step on the road, and Perrine saw what appeared to bea man dressed in a smock and wearing a leather hat and with a pipe inhis mouth.
"Hi, kid, what yer doin' with my donkey?" he cried, without taking thepipe from his lip.
Then Perrine saw that it was the rag woman to whom she had sold Palikareat the Horse Market. The woman did not recognize her at first. Shestared hard at her for a moment.
"Sure I've seen yer somewhere," she said at last.
"It was I who sold you Palikare," said Perrine.
"Why, sure it's you, little one, but what in Heaven's name are you doin'here?"
Perrine could not reply. She was so giddy her head whirled. She had beensitting up, but now she was obliged to lie down again, and her pallorand tears spoke for her.
"What's the matter? Are you sick?" demanded La Rouquerie.
Although Perrine moved her lips as though to speak, no sound came. Againshe was sinking into unconsciousness, partly from emotion, partly fromweakness.
But La Rouquerie was a woman of experience; she had seen all miseries.
"The kid's dying of hunger," she muttered to herself.
She hurried over the road to a little truck over the sides of whichwere spread out some dried rabbit skins. The woman quickly opened a boxand took out a slice of bread, a piece of cheese and a bottle. Shecarried it back on the run.
Perrine was still in the same condition.
"One little minute, girlie; one little minute," she said encouragingly.
Kneeling down beside little Perrine, she put the bottle to her lips.
"Take a good drink; that'll keep you up," she said.
True, the good drink brought the blood back to her cheeks.
"Are you hungry?"
"Yes," murmured Perrine.
"Well, now you must eat, but gently; wait a minute."
She broke off a piece of bread and cheese and offered it to her.
"Eat it slowly," she said, advisedly, for already Perrine had devouredthe half of what was handed to her. "I'll eat with you, then you won'teat so fast."
Palikare had been standing quietly looking on with his big soft eyes.When he saw La Rouquerie sit down on the grass beside Perrine, he alsoknelt down beside them.
"The old rogue, he wants a bite, too," said the woman.
"May I give him a piece?" asked Perrine.
"Yes, you can give him a piece or two. When we've eaten this there ismore in the cart. Give him some; he is so pleased to see you again, goodold boy. You know he _is_ a good boy."
"Yes, isn't he a dear?" said Perrine, softly.
"Now when you've eaten that you can tell me how you come to be in thesewoods pretty near starved to death. Sure it'd be a pity for you to kickthe bucket yet awhile."
After she had eaten as much as was good for her, Perrine told her story,commencing with the death of her mother. When she came to the scene shehad had with the baker woman at St. Denis, the woman took her pipe fromher mouth and called the baker woman some very bad names.
"She's a thief, a thief!" she cried. "I've never given bad money to noone, 'cause I never take any from nobody. Be easy! She'll give that backto me next time I pass by her shop, or I'll put the whole neighborhoodagainst her. I've friends at St. Denis, and we'll set her store on fireif she don't give it up!"
Perrine finished her story.
"You was just about goin' to die," said La Rouquerie; "what was thefeelin' like?"
"At first I felt very sad," said Perrine, "and I think I must have criedlike one cries in the night when one is suffocating; then I dreamed ofHeaven and of the good food I should have there. Mama, who was waitingfor me, had made me some milk chocolate; I could smell it."
"It's funny that this heat wave, which was going to kill you, reallywas the cause of yer bein' saved. If it hadn't been for this darned heatI never should have stopped to let that donkey rest in this wood, andthen he wouldn't have found yer. What cher goin' to do now?"
"Go on my way."
"And tomorrow? What yer got to eat? One's got to be young like you totake such a trip as this."
"But what could I do?"
La Rouquerie gravely took two or three puffs at her pipe. She wasthoughtful for a moment; then she said:
"See here, I'm goin' as far as Creil, no farther. I'm buyin' odds andends in the villages as I go along. It's on the way to Chantilly, so youcome along with me. Now yell out a bit if you've got the strength:'Rabbit skins! Rags and bones to sell!'"
Perrine straightened herself and cried out as she was told.
"That's fine! You've got a good, clear voice. As I've got a sore throat,you can do the calling out for me, so like that you'll earn your grub.When we get to Creil I know a farmer there who goes as far as Amiens toget eggs and things. I'll ask him to take you in his cart. When you getto Amiens you can take the train to where yer relations hang out."
"But what with? How can I take a train?"
"I'll advance you the five francs that I'm goin' to get back from thatbaker. I'll get it! So I'll give yer five francs for your fare."