The knife took a bite at my neck.

"It's in my pack. Right side. At the bottom."

The pressure of the knife eased.

I heard the sound of the pack being dragged across the ground. The clink of coins. The knife was withdrawn. I began to breathe more easily and sat up, only to have the knife put to my chest. "Take off your boots."

"My-?" My boots? Truly? "I would, but I can't quite move, can I?"

Moonlight glowed from the face of the knife. The man retreated, just a bit, though he brandished his weapon. In the uneasy silence, I heard the cocking of a gun.

The thief heard it, too. His eyes went wide, rolling first in my direction and then in the direction of the cart. He took one last look at me and then vanished into the wood.

I pushed to my feet, considering whether to pursue him. Better not. He'd taken my money, but I still had my boots. And who knew how many others like him there were out in the cavernous reaches of the wood.

Alexandre had jumped down from the cart. He took my jaw in hand, turning my chin toward the moon.

"You saved my life!"

"At the very least, your boots. Give me a look at your neck there."

"He took all my money."

"That's why you should carry it in several different places."

I hadn't thought of that. He pressed a finger where the knife had gouged me.

"Ow!"

"He nicked you."

"I felt it."

He drew the neckerchief from my collar, wound it round my neck, and tied it off over the wound.

"You saved my life."

"Perhaps I did. But it wasn't to hear you exclaim about it. It was to be able to get some sleep."

Sleep? Now? After I'd almost been killed? When I was shivering like a wet dog?

"Pull yourself together."

"He might have killed me."

"But he didn't."

"He might have."

"I would have killed him first."

Though I was clutching at my own arms to try to keep my wits about me, his words gave me pause. "You would have killed him?"

"Oui."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know what?" He'd already climbed back into the cart, looking as if, indeed, he was planning to go back to sleep.

"How do you know you would have done it?"

"I had my pistol out, didn't I?"

"And I had my musket. And I never, not once, thought of picking it up."

"But then you were surprised out of your sleep." His head disappeared as I heard a rustling in the straw lining the bed of the cart.

"But even if I hadn't been, I don't know if I could have done it."

"You're a soldier. Of course you could have done it."

But how could he know that about me? How could he know that, when I didn't even know it myself? I was shaking my head, though it jerked up and down, side to side with my shivering. "I wouldn't have done it." I'd failed at soldiering, just like I'd failed at baking.

"You would have had to. He might have killed you otherwise."

"But even so..."

A cloak flew over the side of the cart toward me.

I caught it up before it hit the ground. Wrapped it about my trembling shoulders.

"You're a soldier."

A soldier who couldn't kill a man when it came down to it.

Chapter 25.

The Dog Along the road to Signy-sur-vaux, France I did not like the man. The one who had come upon us on the road. He was wearing one of those glinting hats. Men who wore those hats were bad. And yet...a person who wore a hat just like it had killed my bad master.

How could a bad man do a good thing?

I took another look at him through the grasses that grew between the edge of the forest and the road.

He glanced over toward me.

I sunk down until my belly touched the ground, and I watched them walk by...he and my new master.

What was he planning to do to me? He didn't have a box. I didn't see a switch.

I crept forward on my haunches, keeping my head well below the tops of the grasses.

Was he a good person or a bad one?

I whined with indecision.

If he was bad, then I must leave; if he was good, then I could stay. My nose told me there was water somewhere near. I sat up to scratch at an ear. Perhaps I did not have to choose. I could let them walk away, and I could go find the water.

That is what I would do.

But though I would not mind losing the one with the hat, I did not want to lose the other. My master. It was he who had carried me in his arms that terrible night through the woods. And he who had freed me from the burden of my brother's hide.

He did not have any cream.

There had been no warming fire.

No welcoming lap.

But he knew my name. He had called me Moncher.

Moncher.

I whined again and scratched at my other ear.

Perhaps he was walking toward a place where there would be some cream. I took a step forward.

The sun reached down and touched the other man's hat.

I stopped.

What good could come from going anywhere with a man who wore a glinting hat? But what right did I have to leave my master?

Perhaps...if he did not see me, the man in the hat would forget about me.

I turned and trotted toward the forest, keeping well behind the fall of the shadows, where the sun did not dare to challenge the chill in the air. I shivered. I could not see the men any longer, but I could hear them.

The ground was softer to my feet.

I brushed past ferns and padded over fallen branches. I stopped, once, to stare at a squirrel. It scolded me, buried a nut, and then scampered away into the wood. After a while, I crept close to the edge of the shadow to pull at some of the grasses. They came back up a short time after I swallowed them, but at least they had eased the pains in my belly. I trotted ahead of the men and lay at the meeting of sun and shade to warm myself while I waited for them. I sighed from pleasure and rolled over to expose my belly to the heat.

The man with the glinting hat did not sound so terrible when I did not have to look at him. There was no meanness, no malice in his voice.

Not like the bad master's. And not like that man called De Grote.

I snorted, rolled over, and pushed to my feet. Licked at the place where the bad master's razor had bit me. My master and the man with the hat had passed by, so I raced to catch up with them, and then I went on past. Lay down to wait for them once more.

If only I had not been so afraid.

If I had not paused at the edge of the field that terrible night, then I might have been able to save my good master. I might have been able to warn him about the men wearing glinting hats. I could have leaped at them. I could have knocked them to the ground. If I had not been so afraid, I could have protected him.

I would not let this new master be harmed. I would not fail him.

Some day...one day...I would show those men who wore glinting hats what I thought of them. I would punish them for beating me. For starving me. For taking me away from my good master.

I topped a ridge that overlooked the road.

The man with the hat spied me.

I slunk back into the wood.

Some day I would do those things... but not today.

I ran ahead and waited and ran ahead again until the sun began to fall asleep. But I started to wait for my master closer and closer to the road. Began to care less and less about what that man with the glinting hat might do to me.

There were things out there in the forest, following us. I could hear them rustling and crackling as they moved. I bit back a whine, for I did not want to betray my own presence. But I sped my pace, and then sat on my haunches as I waited, raising an ear to listen. And I trembled as night fell dark about me.

Chapter 26.

Lisette Lefort Chateau of Eronville

The province of Orleanais, France