The Little Old Portrait

by Mrs. Molesworth

that lesssharp ears than those of the forester's boy, trained to distinguish eachcry of the wood-creatures, each note of the birds, could have heardnothing.

  "`I tell you,' said one voice, `I am as sure as I can be. I knew thatinsolent tone at once, and when I looked I was certain. The girl too--though who the third is I cannot make out. That baffled me.'

  "`Then if you were so sure, why give yourself and me all this bother?'grumbled the other. `Why did you not at once seize them? It would betoo bad to lose the reward after coming so far, and taking so muchtrouble.'

  "`I have told you why,' said the other, speaking more loudly as he gotangry. `They might have been too much for us; there is no tellingwhether they have not got friends in the village. They are in their owncountry now, and that Valmont lot set up to be benevolent, and all thatkind of thing. No, I would not risk any scene; let us wait here quietlyand watch them off in the morning--we can see which way they go, andeasily take them when they are alone. You have the order for the arrestall right?'

  "`Yes, but only for the two.'

  "`Of course; we don't want the country lad, though, perhaps--' But herethe voice grew so low that Pierre, strain his ears as he would, couldhear no more, till he caught a half-surly `Good-night then' from thesecond speaker, and all was silent, save the beating of the poor boy'sown heart, which sounded to him so unnaturally loud, that he felt as ifit could not but be heard through the partition.

  "And all this time Edmond was sleeping soundly; it was too dark to seehim, but by listening close, Pierre heard his soft and regularbreathing. What could he do? what _dared_ he do? or was it useless toattempt anything? thought poor Pierre, till he began to fear the nightwould pass in this sort of paralysis of terror. At last his brain beganto recover itself a little. He moved himself up into a sittingposition, trembling at every rustle in the hay, and at last, getting onto his feet, having slipped off his shoes, he managed to creep out atthe door, without its creaking. The fresh cold air did him good, and herapidly regained his presence of mind. There would be no difficulty inrousing Edmee, he hoped, for he knew her to be the lightest of sleepers,and she was already uneasy from the events of the evening. The littleroom where she was, opened out of the kitchen where they had supped, andby good chance the house door was only latched. So far, all was easy,and in five minutes the poor child, who had only partly undressed, wasstanding shivering beside her young protector. She took it all in, inan instant.

  "`Pierrot,' she said, `there is nothing to do; there is no chance ofescape for us. There is only one thing to do, save yourself. They maymean to take you too, or to kill you at once,' and Edmee shuddered, `ifyou make any defence. Go, Pierre--go home to your father and mother,you have no right to throw your life away uselessly.'

  "But Pierre did not seem to hear her words.

  "`Edmee,' he replied, `I can save _you_--we could start off at once, andhide in the woods till they have lost all trace of us--we should behours in advance of them. But oh, Edmee, it is Edmond! And Ipromised--I promised the Countess not to desert him.'

  "`No,' said Edmee, determinedly, `we _cannot_ desert him.'

  "They then consulted together--how to wake him without being heard bythe two men was the terrible question. He was a heavy sleeper,especially when tired, and from his delicate health and nervousness hewas always irritable if awakened before his sleep was completed.

  "`He is sure, _certain_ to scream out crossly, and then all will beover,' said Edmee, her teeth chattering with cold and terror.

  "`Then there is only one thing to be done,' said Pierre. `Have you yourbag ready, Edmee?' The girl nodded as she held it up. `You havenothing left in the house? That is right; my bundle and Edmond's arejust as they were--only we must leave some money to pay for our supperand lodging. Here, I will slip in and place it on the table. Now wemust both creep back into the barn--you to help me in case of need. Ihave here a large, strong handkerchief; I will gag Edmond before he hastime to make a sound--he is so feeble it will be easily done; then ifyou can take the baggage I will carry him on my back till we are wellout of hearing, and then explain all.'

  "`He will struggle fearfully,' said Edmee. `Perhaps--perhaps, Pierre,if I whisper in his ear that it is we who are doing it to save him, hewill be quiet.'

  "`_After_ he is gagged, if you like,' said Pierre; `but not before. Wemust run no risk; our lives hang on the thinnest of threads, Edmee.Come, try not to tremble so--oh, my poor little lady, if I could havespared you this!'

  "Edmee hesitated.

  "`Dear Pierrot,' she said, `I think perhaps if I were to say a littleprayer to the good God to help and save us, it would make me leave offtrembling so.'

  "Pierre answered by uncovering his head, and then, at a sign from Edmee,he knelt down beside her on the grass, for they had crept back behindthe house, and there the two young creatures prayed with earnest andsimple words for the help they so sorely needed--`or,' whispered Edmee,`if we do not escape, for courage to bear whatever is before us.'

  "Then she rose to her feet.

  "`I am not trembling now,' she said. `Pierrot dear, kiss me once beforewe go; for we don't know, we may fail.'

  "Pierrot kissed her; he could not have spoken had he tried.

  "He led the way to the barn. Pierre crept in first to reconnoitre; allwas quiet, and as he had left it, he reported, when he crept out again,bringing his own and Edmond's bundles, which, with her bag, he and Edmeecarried a little way into the shelter of the wood hard by, so that thegirl's hands might be free, if need were, to help him with the much moretroublesome piece of baggage--Edmond. Then they both made their way inagain, Edmee standing a little aside, while Pierre, by the very faintmoonlight which came in through the open doorway, satisfied himself asto the exact position in which Edmond lay, before attempting to gag andseize him. How he succeeded he could never himself tell, but succeed hedid. Before the sleeping boy had recovered his faculties sufficientlyto attempt to scream or to make any resistance, he was safe and fast inPierre's strong arms, his mouth so firmly gagged that, though he wasscarlet, nay purple, with rage and terror long before he found out thereal state of the case, not the faintest sound was audible, as, followedby Edmee, young Germain, with his heavy burden, made his way from thebarn by the path behind the house, which they had already discovered ledinto the woods. More than once Edmee tried to whisper into Edmond'sear, but blinded and confused as he was she could not catch hisattention.

  "`Better wait awhile,' whispered Pierre, and it was not till after quitea quarter of an hour of this painful progress that he at last stopped,and, after listening in all directions, let Edmond slip to the ground,though still firmly holding him. The boy opened his eyes; he had halflost consciousness, and Pierre began to loosen the handkerchief.

  "`Edmond,' said Edmee, though still in a whisper, `it is we--Pierre andI. Don't you know us?' But Edmond shivered convulsively, and it wassome minutes--minutes of most precious time--before Edmee and Pierretogether could get him to understand all that had passed. Then he burstinto tears, blaming himself as the cause of the terrible risk they hadrun, thanking them both for saving his life, and entreating theirforgiveness. It was a great relief that his excitement had taken thisform,--Edmee had been secretly terrified that he would perhaps haveturned upon Pierre in a rage at him for having employed force, even tosave his life,--for it was easy to make him do whatever they wished. Hesoon recovered himself enough to get on to his feet, and with Pierre onone side and Edmee on the other, to make his way deeper and deeper intothe recesses of the forest. It was their best chance. Pierre'sexperience served as a guide, even though with these special woods hewas unacquainted, and he was able to direct their steps ever towardsValmont, though plunging very much further into the forest than heintended. And for some days they did not venture to leave its friendlyshelter. What did they live upon? you will ask, as I have often askedmy mother when she has been relating to me the history of these strangedays. Very little, it seems to me. Pierre managed, two
or three times,to get a loaf from one of the wood-cutters' cottages they passed at longintervals, but which he never dared approach near, except by himself.He used to hide his companions and then, whistling lightly, as if on anordinary journey of a few hours, would knock at the cottage door and askfor some bread, as he was hungry and had some distance to go; but notmuch of the bread fell to _his_ share, you may be sure. Once or twicehe got a few eggs, which he cooked on a fire of dry wood, and whichEdmee thought delicious, for there is no sauce like hunger! The nightsthey spent, in part, in walking, when there was light enough to seetheir way, for it was cold work lying on the beds of dead leaves theycollected, with the scanty spare clothing that was all their bundlescontained; and had