L. T. Meade

“ It was only a dream of the little girl's, that Lovedy waited for her in the Pyrenees; there might be no English girl hiding there! and even if there was, did she want that forty pounds so badly? Must he sacrifice his whole life for the sake of that forty pounds? Was it not a sacrifice too hard to expect of any boy? True, he had given his word! he had told Cecile that he would rather be cut in little bits than touch her purse of gold. Yes, yes; but this lifelong suffering was worse than being cut in pieces. "He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of Me." ”

“ Lydia loved money beyond all other things. For money she would sell right, nobleness, virtue. All those moral qualities which are so precious in God's sight Lydia would part with for that possession which Satan prizes—money.
Cecile, when she first came to Warren's Grove, had put her treasure into so secure and out-of-the-way a hiding place that she felt quite easy about it. Lydia would never, never think of troubling her head about that attic sloping down to the roof, still less would she poke her fingers into the little secret cupboard where the precious purse lay. ”

“ Now, if only the snow don't last too long, and if only we can keep awake, we may do even yet."
"Why mayn't we go to sleep?" asked Cecile; "not that I am sleepy at two o'clock in the day."
"Why mayn't we go to sleep?" echoed Joe. "Now, Missie, dear, I'm a werry hignorant boy, but I knows this much, I knows this much as true as gospel, and them as sleeps in the snow never, never wakes no more. We must none of us drop asleep, we must do hevery think but sleep—you and me, and Maurice and Toby. ”

“ He awoke bathed in perspiration to hear the village clock strike four. The hour, the hour of his fate had come. Even now Anton waited for him. He had no time to lose, his dream had decided him. He would go back at any cost to his mother. Softly he put down his hand and removed the precious little bit of paper from the bosom of Cecile's frock, then, lifting her head tenderly from his knees, he carried her, still sleeping, into the hut, bade Toby watch by her, and flung himself into the silent gloom of the forest. ”

“ Strange to say, the darkness did not frighten the little fellow; on the contrary, it soothed him. Night had really come. In the night it was natural to lie still and sleep; when people were asleep time passed quickly. Maurice would go to sleep, and then in the morning surely, surely Joe and Cecile would find him and bring him home.
He lay down, curling himself up like a little dog, but tired as he was he could not sleep—not at first. He was nothing but a baby boy, but he had quite a retrospect or panorama passing before his eyes as he lay on the dirty caravan floor. ”

“ I wish Jesus the Guide would take us to heaven at once."
"We must find Lovedy first," said Cecile, "and then—and then—yes, I'd like, too, to die and go—there."
"I know nothing about dying," answered Maurice; "I only know I want to go to heaven. I liked what Mammie Moseley told me about heaven. You are never cold there and never hungry. Now I'm beginning to be quite cold again, and in an hour or so I shall be as hungry as ever. I don't think nothing of your South, Cecile; 'tis a nasty place, I think."
"We have not got South yet, darling. ”

“ True, Cecile cried a little, and went into the room where the dead woman lay, and kissed the cold lips, registering again, as she did so, a vow to find Lovedy, but even Cecile's loving heart was only stirred on the surface by this death. The little girl, too, was so oppressed, so overpowered by the care of the precious purse of money, she lived even already in such hourly dread of Aunt Lydia finding it, that she had no room in her mind for other sensations ”

“ Mrs. Moseley, remembering how Susie had run away, felt a little afraid. Suppose Cecile, too, disappeared? It was so easy for children to disappear in London. They were just as much lost as if they were dead to their friends, and nobody ever heard of them again. Mrs. Moseley could not watch the children all day; at last in her despair she determined to appeal to her clergyman.
"I don't know what to make of the little girl," she said in conclusion, "she reminds me awful much of Susie. She's rare and winsome; I think she have a deeper nature than my poor lost Susie, but she's lovable like her. ”

“ It is true Cecile's heart, which was very big, had hungered for more than her stepmother had ever offered; but Maurice had felt no want, he had Cecile to love him, Toby to pet him; and Mrs. D'Albert always gave him the warmest corner by the hearth, the nicest bits to eat, the best of everything her poor and struggling home afforded. Maurice was rather a spoiled little boy; even Cecile, much as she loved him, felt that he was rather spoiled; all the harder now would be the changed life. ”

“ Yes, Cecile's ultimate destination was France. In that pretty farmhouse on the borders of the Landes, she and Maurice grew up as happy and blessed as children could be. No longer orphans—for had they not a mother in old Mme. Malet, a sister in Lovedy, while Joe must always remain as the dearest of dear brothers? Were you to ask Cecile, she would tell you she had just one dream still unfulfilled. She hopes some day to welcome Mammie Moseley to her happy home in France. ”

“ I should like to die, but I must not die just yet. I'm a very, very anxious little girl, and I have a great, great deal to do; it would not be right for me even to think of dying yet. Not until I have found Lovedy, and given Lovedy the purse of gold, and told Lovedy all about her mother, then after that I should like to die."
"That's right, Missie; we won't think on no dying to-night. Now let's do all we can to keep awake; let's walk up and down this little sheltered bit under the wall; let's teach Toby to dance a bit; let's jump about a bit." ”

“ These trees, planted in long straight rows, and occupying whole leagues of country, would have been wearisome to eyes less occupied, to hearts less full, than those that looked out of the faces and beat in the breasts of the children who on foot still pursued their march. For in this forest Cecile's heart had revived. Before she reached Bordeaux she often had felt her hope fading. She had believed that her desire could never be accomplished, for, inquire as they would, they could get in none of the towns or villages they passed through any tidings of Lovedy. ”

“ Maurice came to first, Cecile last. Indeed so long was she unconscious, so unavailing seemed all the warm brandy that was poured between her lips, that Mme. Dupois thought she must be dead.
The farmer's children, awakened by the noise, had now slipped downstairs in their little nightdresses. And when at last Cecile's blue eyes opened once more on this world, it was to look into the bright black orbs of a little Norman maiden of about her own age.
"Oh, look, mamma! Look! her eyes open, she sees! she lives! she moves! Ah, mother! ”

“ Altogether, the village was the most civilized-looking place the children had stopped at since they entered what had been a few years ago the dreary desert of the Landes. Strange to say, however, here, for the first time, the weary little pilgrims met with a cold reception. The people in the village of Moulleau did not care for boys who played the fiddle, and dogs that tried clumsily to accompany it. They looked with a fine lack of sympathy at Cecile's pathetic blue eyes, and Maurice was nothing more to them than a rather dirty little sunburnt boy. ”

“ He came straight up to Cecile, and clasping her little hands between both his own, which trembled violently, spoke.
"Oh, Cecile! he's a bad man. He's a bad, bad man, and I am ruined. We're all ruined, Cecile. Is there any place we can hide in—is there any place? I must speak to you, and he'll be back in half an hour. I must speak to you, Cecile, before he comes back."
"Let's run away," said Cecile promptly. "Let's run away at once before he comes again. There must be lots of hiding places in Paris. Oh! here's Pericard. Pericard, I know, is faithful. You ask Pericard to hide us, Joe. ”

“ I shall give the purse to neither of you, but take it myself to the little girl who intrusted it to me. I can go to her by train to-morrow morning. I had meant to give myself a holiday, and this trip will just suit me to perfection. If the boy likes to accompany me to his mother, I will pay his fare third-class. Should the old woman turn out not to be his mother and his story prove false, I shall have nothing more to say to him. As to you, Anton, if that is your name, I don't think I need have any further words with you. ”

“ Your most grateful little children,
"CECILE—MAURICE.
"Toby has to come with us, please, and he is most obliged for all kindness."
This little note made Moseley dash his hand hastily more than once before his eyes, then catching up his hat he rushed off to the nearest police-station, but though all steps were immediately taken, the children were not found. Mrs. Moseley came home and cried nearly as sorely for them as she did for her dead mother.
"John," she said, "I'll never pick up no more strays—never, never. I'll never be good to no more strays. You mark my words, John Moseley." ”

“ Me and Maurice and Toby, we'll walk to London. I have got half a sovereign that Mr. Preston gave to Maurice. We'll go to London first, and then to France. Yes, Jane, I'm quite ready. Shall I wake Maurice, and will you open the door to let us out?"
"I'll do more than that, my little lamb; and ain't it enough to break one's heart to hear the poor innocent, and she taking it so calm and collected-like? Now, Cecile, tell me have you any friends in London?"
"I once met a girl who sat on a doorstep and sang," answered Cecile. "I think she would be my friend, but I don't know where she lives." ”

“ Cecile's sensitive face flushed at the words of praise, and she came very close to the sofa. "Yes, you're a good child," repeated Mrs. D'Albert; "you're yer father's own child, and he was very good, though he was a foreigner. For myself I don't much care for good people, but when you're dying, I don't deny as they're something of a comfort. Good people are to be depended on, and you're good, Cecile."
But there was only one sentence in these words which Cecile took in.
"When you're dying," she repeated, and every vestige of color forsook her lips.
"Yes, my dear, when you're dying. ”

“ Oh, Cecile! you're for all the world just like what Susie was; only I hopes as you won't treat us as bad."
"Susie was the girl who slept in our little bedroom," said Cecile. "Was she older than me, ma'am? and was she yer daughter, ma'am?"
"No, Cecile. Susie was nothink to me in the flesh, though, God knows, I loved her like a child of my own. God never gave me a bonnie girl to love and care for, Cecile. I had one boy. Oh! I did worship him, and when Jesus tuk him away and made an angel of him, I thought I'd go near wild. Well, we won't talk on it. He died at five years old. ”

“ You would always think how you had robbed a little girl that trusted you, and who had a great, great dreadful care on her mind, and you would remember how Jesus the Guide had sent you to that little girl to help her, and your heart would break. You could not do it, Joe Barnes."
Here Cecile returned her purse to its hiding place, and then sat quiet, with her hands folded before her.
Nothing could exceed the dignity and calm of the little creature. ”

“ And now occurred that event which I must consider the direct intervention of the Guide Jesus on Cecile's behalf. This event was nothing more nor less than a dream. Now anyone may dream. Of all the common and unimportant things under the sun, dreams in our present day rank as the commonest, the most unimportant. No one thinks about dreams. People, if they have got any reputation for wisdom, do not even care to mention them. Quite true, but there are dreams and dreams; and I still hold to my belief that Cecile's dream was really sent to her direct from heaven. ”

“ There was a trampled-down bed of violets; there were withered violets scattered about. How like Maurice to fill his hands with these treasures, and then throw them away. Clever Toby, sniffing the ground, presently caught the scent he desired. This scent carried him to the main road, to the place where the caravan had stood. He saw the mark of wheels, the trampling of horses' feet, but here also the scent he was following ended; the caravan itself had absolutely disappeared. Toby reflected for a minute, threw his head in the air, uttered a cry and then once more rushed back into the forest. ”

“ Why, you don't never mean as you're going to cross the seas?"
"Is that the way to France, Mammie Moseley? Oh! Do you really know the way?"
"There's no other way that I ever hear tell on, Cecile. Oh, my dear, you must not do that!"
"But it's just there I've got to go, ma'am; and me and Maurice are a little French boy and girl. We'll be sure to feel all right in France; and when we get to the Pyrenees we'll feel at home. 'Tis there our father lived, and our own mother died, and me and Maurice were born there. I don't see how we can help being at home in the Pyrenees." ”

“ Joe had lit the candle for the little girl, and secured it against any possible overthrow. But as she did so he shook his head sorrowfully.
Seeing this Cecile reproved him.
"I know Maurice so well," explained the little sister. "He will sleep for hours and hours, and then he will wake and gather flowers and think himself quite close to us all the time. He will never know how time passes, and then the night will come and he will be frightened and want to come back to me and Toby; and when he is frightened this light will guide him." ”