Chapter XIV
Love Me, Love my Dog
As I emerged from the woods I noted that the glare was greater thanbefore. But before I reached the outskirts of the village it had begunto die down. My wild running up the main street attracted noattention—every one able to be about was at the fire.
I have no doubt that I was not long in covering those two miles from thewestern end of the village to the De Lamourie farm—but to me they seemedleagues of torment. At last I reached the gate, and dashed panting upthe lane.
“Where are they?” I asked again and again, and broke out cursingfuriously; but every one I spoke to evaded a direct answer.
“Have that arch fiend and his red devils carried them off?” I asked atlast; and to this I got hushed, astonished, terrified replies of—
“No, monsieur!” and, “No indeed, monsieur! They have escaped!” and, “Oh,but no, monsieur!”
There, on the sill of a window of the second story, a window from whichcame volumes of smoke, but of flame only a slender, darting tongue,crouched a white kitten. With a curious gripping at my heart Irecognized it as one which I had seen playing at Yvonne’s feet theevening before. I remembered how it was forever pouncing with wild gleeupon the tip of her little slipper, forever being gently rolled over andtickled into fresh ecstasies. The scene cut itself upon my brain as Iran for a yet undamaged ladder, which I noticed leaning against a shednear by.
The action doubtless filled the crowd with amazement, but no one raiseda hand to help me. The ladder was long and very awkward to manage, butin little more than the time it takes to tell of it I got it up besidethe window and sprang to the rescue. By this time, however, the flameswere spouting forth. The moment I came within reach of it the littleanimal leapt upon me and clung with frantic claws. A vivid sheet offlame burst out in my very face, hurling me from the ladder; yet Isucceeded in alighting on my feet, jarred, but whole. There was a smellof burnt hair in my nostrils, and I saw that the kitten’s coat, nolonger white, was finely crisped. But what I smelt was not all kitten’shair. Lifting my hand to my bitterly smarting face, I found my ownlocks, over my forehead, seriously diminished, while my once fairlyabundant eyebrows and eyelashes were clean gone. My moustache, however,had escaped—and even at that moment, when my mind was surely welloccupied with matters of importance, I could feel a thrill ofsatisfaction. A man’s vanity is liable to assert itself at almost anycrisis; and it did not occur to me that a man lacking eyebrows andeyelashes could not hope to be redeemed from the ridiculous by the mostluxuriant moustache that ever grew.
Half dazed, I stared about me, wondering what was next to be done.Suddenly I thought—“Why, of course; they have gone to Father Fafard’s!”
“It belongs to Mademoiselle de Lamourie. Take care of it for her.”
Not waiting to hear her answer, I was off across the fields for theparsonage.