"Then do you count on me keeping you?"

"No, sir, I don't count on any one."

That was true. I did not count upon any one.

"Your master already owes me a lot of money," he continued. "I can't board you for two months without knowing if I shall be paid. You'll have to go."

"Go! Where shall I go, sir?"

"That's not my business. I'm nothing to you. Why should I keep you?"

For a moment I was dazed. The man was right. Why should he give me shelter?

"Come, take your dogs and monkey and get out! Of course, you must leave your master's bag with me. When he comes out of jail, he'll come here to get it, and then he can settle his account."

An idea came to me.

"As you know he will settle his bill then, can't you keep me until then, and add what I cost to it?"

"Ah, ah! Your master might be able to pay for two days' lodging, but two months! that's a different thing."

"I'll eat as little as you wish."

"And your dogs and monkey! No, be off! You'll pick up enough in the villages."

"But, sir, how will my master find me when he comes out of prison? He'll come to look for me here."

"All you've got to do is to come back on that day."

"And if he writes to me?"

"I'll keep the letter."

"But if I don't answer him?..."

"Oh, stop your talk. Hurry up and get out! I give you five minutes. If I find you here when I come out again I'll settle you."

I knew it was useless to plead with him. I had to "get out." I went to the stables to get the dogs and Pretty-Heart, then strapping my harp on my shoulder I left the inn.

I was in a hurry to get out of town, for my dogs were not muzzled. What should I say if I met a policeman? That I had no money? It was the truth; I had only eleven sous in my pocket. That was not enough to buy muzzles. They might arrest me. If Vitalis and I were both in prison, whatever would become of the animals? I felt the responsibility of my position.

As I walked along quickly the dogs looked up at me in a way I could not fail to understand. They were hungry. Pretty-Heart, whom I carried, pulled my ear from time to time to force me to look at him. Then he rubbed his stomach in a manner that was no less expressive than the looks the dogs cast at me. I also was hungry. We had had no breakfast.

My eleven sous could not buy enough for dinner and supper, so we should have to be satisfied with one meal, which, if we took it in the middle of the day, would serve us for two.

I wandered along. I did not care where I went; it was all the same to me, for I did not know the country. The question of finding a place in which to sleep did not worry me; we could sleep in the open air.... But to eat!

We must have walked for about two hours before I dared to stop, and yet the dogs had looked up at me imploringly and Pretty-Heart had pulled my ear and rubbed his stomach incessantly. At last I felt that I was far enough away from the town to have nothing to fear. I went into the first bakery that I came across. I asked for one pound and a half of bread.

"You'd do well to take a two-pound loaf," said the woman. "That's not too much for your menagerie. You must feed the poor dogs."

Oh, no, it was not too much for my menagerie, but it was too much for my purse. The bread was five sous a pound; two pounds would cost ten sous.

I did not think it wise to be extravagant before knowing what I was going to do the next day. I told the woman in an offhand manner that one pound and a half was quite enough and politely asked her not to cut more. I left the shop with my bread clutched tightly in my arms. The dogs jumped joyfully around me. Pretty-Heart pulled my hair and chuckled with glee.

We did not go far. At the first tree that we saw I placed my harp against the trunk and sat down on the gra.s.s. The dogs sat opposite me, Capi in the middle, Dulcie at one side, Zerbino on the other.

Pretty-Heart, who was not tired, stood up on the watch, ready to s.n.a.t.c.h the first piece that he could. To eke out the meal was a delicate matter. I cut the bread into five parts, as near the same size as possible, and distributed the slices. I gave each a piece in turn, as though I were dealing cards. Pretty-Heart, who required less food than we, fared better, for he was quite satisfied while we were still famished. I took three pieces from his share and hid them in my bag to give the dogs later. Then, as there still remained a little piece, I broke it and we each had some; that was for dessert.

After the meal I felt that the moment had come for me to say a few words to my companions. Although I was their chief, I did not feel that I was too much above them not to wish them to take part in the grave situation in which we found ourselves.

Capi had probably guessed my intentions, for he sat with his big, intelligent eyes fixed on me.

"Yes, Capi," I said, "and you, Dulcie, Zerbino and Pretty-Heart, my friends, I've bad news for you. We shan't see our master for two whole months."

"Ouah," barked Capi.

"It's bad for him and it's also bad for us, for we depend on him for everything, and now he's gone, we haven't any money."

At the mention of the word money, which he perfectly understood, Capi rose on his hind paws and commenced to trot round as though he were collecting money from the "distinguished audience."

"I see you want to give a performance, Capi," I continued; "that's good advice, but should we make anything? That's the question. We have only three sous left, so you mustn't get hungry. You've all to be very obedient; that will make it easier for us all. You must help me all you can, you dogs and Pretty-Heart. I want to feel that I can count on you."

I would not make so bold as to say that they understood all I said, but they got the general idea. They knew by our master's absence that something serious had happened, and they had expected an explanation from me. If they did not understand all that I said to them, they were at least satisfied that I had their welfare at heart, and they showed their satisfaction by the attention they gave me.

Attention? Yes, on the part of the dogs only. It was impossible for Pretty-Heart to keep still for long. He could not fix his mind upon one subject for more than a minute. During the first part of my discourse he had listened to me with the greatest interest, but before I had said twenty words, he had sprung up into a tree, the branches of which hung over our heads, and was now swinging himself from branch to branch. If Capi had insulted me in like manner, my pride would certainly have been hurt; but I was never astonished at anything Pretty-Heart might do. He was so empty-headed. But after all, it was quite natural that he should want to have a little fun. I admit that I would liked to have done the same. I would have gone up that tree with pleasure, but the importance and dignity of my present office did not permit me any such distractions.

After we had rested a while I gave the sign to start. We had to find a place somewhere to lie down for the night and gain a few sous for our food for the next day. We walked for one hour, then came in sight of a village. I quickly dressed my troop, and in as good marching order as possible we made our entry. Unfortunately, we had no fife and we lacked Vitalis' fine, commanding presence. Like a drum major, he always attracted the eye. I had not the advantage of being tall, nor was I possessed of a wonderful head. Quite the reverse, I was small and thin and I must have worn a very anxious look. While marching I glanced to the right and to the left to see what effect we were producing. Very little, I regret to say. No one followed us. Upon reaching the small square upon which was a fountain shaded with trees, I took my harp and commenced to play a waltz. The music was gay, my fingers were light, but my heart was heavy.

I told Zerbino and Dulcie to waltz together. They obeyed me at once and commenced to whirl round, keeping time. But no one put themselves out to come and see us, and yet in the doorways I saw several women knitting and talking. I continued to play, Zerbino and Dulcie went on with their waltz. Perhaps if one decided to come over to us, a second would come, then more and more.

I played on and on, Zerbino and Dulcie went round and round, but the women in the doorways did not even look over at us. It was discouraging.

But I was determined not to be discouraged. I played with all my might, making the cords of my harp vibrate, almost to breaking them. Suddenly a little child, taking its first steps, trotted from his home and came towards us. No doubt the mother would follow him, and after the mother a friend would come, and we should have an audience, and then a little money.

I played more softly so as not to frighten the baby, and also to entice him to come nearer. With hands held out and swaying first on one foot, then on the other, he came on slowly. A few steps more and he would have reached us, but at that moment the mother looked round. She saw her baby at once. But instead of running after him as I had thought she would, she called to him, and the child obediently turned round and went back to her. Perhaps these people did not like dance music; it was quite possible.

I told Zerbino and Dulcie to lie down, and I began to sing my _canzonetta_. Never did I try so hard to please.

I had reached the end of the second line, when I saw a man in a round jacket, and I felt that he was coming towards me. At last! I tried to sing with even more fervor.

"h.e.l.lo, what are you doing here, young rogue?" he cried.

I stopped, amazed at his words, and watched him coming nearer, with my mouth open.

"What are you doing here, I say?"

"Singing, sir."

"Have you got permission to sing on a public square in our village?"

"No, sir."