"What would you have eaten to-night if you had not met us?" asked Arthur.

"I don't think we should have eaten at all."

"And to-morrow?"

"Perhaps to-morrow we should have had the luck to meet some one like we have to-day."

Arthur then turned to his mother. For some minutes they spoke together in a foreign language. He seemed to be asking for something which at first she seemed not quite willing to grant. Then, suddenly, the boy turned his head. His body did not move.

"Would you like to stay with us?" he asked.

I looked at him without replying; I was so taken back by the question.

"My son wants to know if you would like to stay with us?" repeated the lady.

"On this boat?"

"Yes, my little boy is ill and he is obliged to be strapped to this board. So that the days will pa.s.s more pleasantly for him, I take him about in this boat. While your master is in prison, if you like, you may stay here with us. Your dogs and your monkey can give a performance every day, and Arthur and I will be the audience. You can play your harp for us. You will be doing us a service and we, on our side, may be useful to you."

To live on a boat! What a kind lady. I did not know what to say. I took her hand and kissed it.

"Poor little boy!" she said, almost tenderly.

She had said she would like me to play my harp: this simple pleasure I would give her at once. I wanted to show how grateful I was. I took my instrument and, going to the end of the boat, I commenced to play softly. The lady put a little silver whistle to her lips and blew it.

I stopped playing, wondering why she had whistled. Was it to tell me that I was playing badly, or to ask me to stop? Arthur, who saw everything that pa.s.sed around him, noticed my uneasiness.

"My mamma blew the whistle for the horses to go on," he said.

That was so; the barge, towed by the horses, glided over the soft waters which lapped gently against the keel; on either side were trees and behind us fell the oblique rays from the setting sun.

"Will you play?" asked Arthur.

He beckoned to his mother. She sat down beside him. He took her hand and kept it in his, and I played to them all the pieces that my master had taught me.

CHAPTER XI

ANOTHER BOY'S MOTHER

Arthur's mother was English. Her name was Mrs. Milligan. She was a widow, and Arthur was her only son; at least, it was supposed that he was her only son living, for she had lost an elder child under mysterious conditions. When the child was six months old it had been kidnaped, and they had never been able to find any trace of him. It is true that, at the time he was taken, Mrs. Milligan had not been able to make the necessary searches. Her husband was dying, and she herself was dangerously ill and knew nothing of what was going on around her. When she regained consciousness her husband was dead and her baby had disappeared. Her brother-in-law, Mr. James Milligan, had searched everywhere for the child. There being no heir, he expected to inherit his brother's property. Yet, after all, Mr. James Milligan inherited nothing from his brother, for seven months after the death of her husband, Mrs. Milligan's second son, Arthur, was born.

But the doctors said that this frail, delicate child could not live. He might die at any moment. In the event of his death, Mr. James Milligan would succeed to the fortune. He waited and hoped, but the doctors'

predictions were not fulfilled. Arthur lived. It was his mother's care that saved him. When he had to be strapped to a board, she could not bear the thought of her son being closed up in a house, so she had a beautiful barge built for him, and was now traveling through France on the various ca.n.a.ls.

Naturally, it was not the first day that I learned all this about the English lady and her son. I learned these details little by little, while I was with her.

I was given a tiny cabin on the boat. What a wonderful little room it appeared to me! Everything was spotless. The only article of furniture that the cabin contained was a bureau, but what a bureau: bed, mattress, pillows, and covers combined. And attached to the bed were drawers containing brushes, combs, etc. There was no table or chairs, at least not in their usual shape, but against the wall was a plank, which when pulled down was found to be a little square table and chair. How pleased I was to get into that little bed. It was the first time in my life that I had felt soft sheets against my face. Mother Barberin's were very hard and they used to rub my cheeks, and Vitalis and I had more often slept without sheets, and those at the cheap lodging houses at which we stayed were just as rough as Mother Barberin's.

I woke early, for I wanted to know how my animals had pa.s.sed the night.

I found them all at the place where I had installed them the night before, and sleeping as though the beautiful barge had been their home for several months. The dogs jumped up as I approached, but Pretty-Heart, although he had one eye half open, did not move; instead he commenced to snore like a trombone.

I guessed at once what was the matter: Pretty-Heart was very sensitive; he got angry very quickly and sulked for a long time. In the present circ.u.mstances he was annoyed because I had not taken him into my cabin, and he showed his displeasure by pretending to be asleep.

I could not explain to him why I had been forced to leave him on deck, and as I felt that I had, at least in appearances, done him an injury, I took him in my arms and cuddled him, to show him that I was sorry. At first he continued to sulk, but soon, with his changeable temper, he thought of something else, and by his signs made me understand that if I would take him for a walk on land he would perhaps forgive me. The man who was cleaning the deck was willing to throw the plank across for us, and I went off into the fields with my troop.

The time pa.s.sed, playing with the dogs and chasing Pretty-Heart; when we returned the horses were harnessed and the barge in readiness to start.

As soon as we were all on the boat the horses began to trot along the towing path; we glided over the water without feeling a movement, and the only sound to be heard was the song of the birds, the swish of the water against the boat, and the tinkle of bells around the horses'

necks.

Here and there the water seemed quite black, as though it was of great depth; in other parts it was as clear as crystal and we could see the shiny pebbles and velvety gra.s.s below.

I was gazing down into the water when I heard some one call my name. It was Arthur. He was being carried out on his board.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, "better than in the field?"

I told him that I had, after I had politely spoken to Mrs. Milligan.

"And the dogs?" asked Arthur.

I called to them; they came running up with Pretty-Heart; the latter making grimaces as he usually did when he thought that we were going to give a performance.

Mrs. Milligan had placed her son in the shade and had taken a seat beside him.

"Now," she said to me, "you must take the dogs and the monkey away; we are going to work."

I went with the animals to the front of the boat.

What work could that poor little boy do?

I looked round and saw that his mother was making him repeat a lesson from a book she held in her hand. He seemed to be having great difficulty in mastering it, but his mother was very patient.

"No," she said at last, "Arthur, you don't know it, at all."

"I can't, Mamma, I just can't," he said, plaintively. "I'm sick."

"Your head is not sick. I can't allow you to grow up in utter ignorance because you're an invalid, Arthur."

That seemed very severe to me, yet she spoke in a sweet, kind way.

"Why do you make me so unhappy? You know how I feel when you won't learn."

"I cannot, Mamma; I cannot." And he began to cry.

But Mrs. Milligan did not let herself be won over by his tears, although she appeared touched and even more unhappy.