Nobody's Girl

against the dawning light to the grey sky. Chimneys, houses and steeples rose u

ved road. This was a useless precaution, for with the exception of the cats which ran about the street

she was weak and

thought it better to rest a minute, and as she was now passing before a barn full of hay, she went in quietly and threw

e heavens and was casting its rays over the f

d on. She had just reached the top of a hill, and before her, close by, was the village with its shops. She would spend her last sou for a piece

the difference between real money and false, and although she thought this sou looked

ou's worth of bread?

t a little penny roll and handed it to her. In

," she said, "it doesn't matt

e of bread that had been on the

was that it was larger than the litt

s soon as she had passed the last house, she took her little knife from her pocket and made a cross on the piece of bread so as to be able to cut it i

e was famished! She must eat! The second piece followed the first, the third followed the second. Never had her will power been so weak. She was hungry; she must have it ... all ... all. Her only excuse was that the pieces were so tiny. When all fo

gs of hunger were terrible to endure. Where should she get her next meal? She walked through two more villages. She was getting thirsty now, very thirsty. Her tongue was dry, her lips parched. She came to the l

hite road. There was not a tree along the road, and little clouds of dust rose around her every instant,

d only to make a cup of her hands and drink all she wanted. But she had walked miles in the dust and could see no sign of water. At last she picked up some little round s

den. Thick black clouds filled the sky. A storm was coming on, there would be rain, and she would

bs in its mad fracas. Perrine could not withstand this whirlwind. As she was lifted off her feet, a deafening crash of thunder shook the earth. Throw

break quickly; now she realized that the storm would not only bring thunder

hail! Where could she go? Her dress wo

e she saw a wood. She thought that she might f

of thunder became more frequent and louder, and the v

uickly as her panting breath would allow, now and again casting a look b

now she was alone. Not a soul near her in this desolate country. Fortunately the wind was behind her; it blew her alo

ody and bending forward, she ran on ...

r now and the ground around her was cleaved with blue flames. It was better

ish clearly the great trees. A little more courage. Many times her father had told her that if

in the vivid glare she thought she saw a little cabin not far away to which led a bad road hollowed with deep ruts. Again the lightning flashed across the

r strength, worn out and breathless, she sank

the splintering of wood, was so terrific that she thought her end had come. The trees bent their

nd dazed. When she came to herself, astonished to find that she was still alive, she looked out and saw that a giant oak that stood near the hut had been stru

rd an extraordinary rolling sound, more powerful than that of an express train. It was the rain and the hail which was beating down on the forest. The cabin cracked from top to bott

and the rain came down in a deluge, and the wind whistled through the trees, and the unchained tempest went on its mad way through the air and o

solitude and silence, did not terrify her. She was refreshed from her long sleep and she liked her little cabin

d slept, but that did not matter

d covered her from head to foot made her skin smart. Now she was alone, an

ad, in which she had stuck two needles. She undid her packet; then taking off her vest, her shoes, and her stockings, she leaned over the ditch, in which the water flowed clear,

t them hang over her shoulders. If it were not for the little pain in her stomach, and the few torn places

nd a bit of nourishment in this cabin, and as it was still raining,

ome twigs and nibble on them, but they were hard and bitter, and after chewing on th

on. Soon all was dark and silent. She could hear no other

e, she had spent a part of the day in the same place, running no other danger than that of being struck, but the woods in the daytime are no

oods? she wondere

ch she cut to a point with her knife; then she strewed branches and fagots all ar

again, and it was not l

kbird. Day was breaking. She began to shake, for she was chilled to the bone. The damp

was not yet light enough for her to study the sky to see if it were going to rain again. To pass the time, and still more with the wish to be on the m

gleamed blue through the branches of the trees. There

mp, tramp, tramp, made her little feet ache. After a time, however, she stepped out with a regular step on the r

ad washed the roads and the fields, had given new life to th

find it on the road. She hoped she might find something, not a purse full, because she would have to try to find the owner, but just a littl

to be able to live fo

ut neither a copper nor a silver coin did she see, and

Again and again she had to sit down by the

othing would she have to si

four young girls picking peas. A p

ad and walked towards the woman. But the w

want?" sh

I can help, too,"

't want

e me just wh

d'ye co

m Pa

sed her head and cas

ied, "she comes from Par

't want nobody," s

t to go on her way, which

s comin'!" cried

kly, and they all burst out

see the road for the tears which filled her eyes. What had

nnies. She did not dare ask again for a job. She dragged her feet along, only hurr

rching; there was not a breath of air. She was exhausted and dripping with perspirati

g up behind h

kill one," sho

ds. They came to her like in a dream; it was

ught so herself, but now a mes

as dead, now she was going to die. A cruel thought flitted through her dull brain. She

re away from the road. She managed to drag herself into the wood, and there she found a little grassy spot where viole