“If it be Mousse he had a peculiar mark on one of his hind legs,” said Paulette. “Odette, watch the pot while I go to convince this imaginative child.”
They went out again, Pom Pom following closely at their heels. At sight of the cat Pom Pom gave one quick, sudden bark, but stopped short and with wagging tail approached the wall. With clasped hands Lucie watched the two creatures breathlessly. The cat on the wall did not stir, but gazed down with a blandly tolerant expression at the little dog. Pom Pom began to whine. The cat got up, stretched himself, exhibiting a diagonal line of white across one of his hind legs, and took a position where he could better observe the dog.
“You are right; it is Mousse,” declared Paulette, “and those two have not forgotten each other.” She began to call in a high shrill key as she was accustomed to do in the old days, and found her way slowly along the wall to the place where he sat. The cat did not budge as she drew nearer and nearer making beguiling sounds of invitation; he put his ears forward, listened for a moment, then walked along the wall toward her and jumped down upon her shoulder in his old manner of doing. He did not stay there, however, but leaped to the ground, and stood with bristling tail to face Pom Pom. The dog, however, not in the least disconcerted, kept his guard smiling, if a dog can be said to smile, and insinuatingly wagging his tail. Mousse stood his ground for a moment, fixing Pom Pom with a glittering eye, then his tail began to resume its normal size. He walked up to Pom Pom, the two touched noses and walked off amicably toward the shed. Pom Pom leading the way.
Paulette with hands on her hips laughed long and loudly. “That is a sight I never expected to see,” she declared, “and one I wouldn’t have missed.”
“Where do you suppose Mousse has lived all this time, and how has he found food?” said Lucie.
“There are plenty of rats and mice to be had for the hunting,” Paulette answered, “and it is not impossible that the Boches themselves have given him a bite now and then, though the wonder is they did not carry him away.”
“Perhaps there wasn’t time. He might have had the good sense to hide,” returned Lucie. “Well, Paulette, we are bound to have surprises. I wonder what the next one will be.”
“Let us hope it will be as pleasant as this,” responded Paulette, opening the door before which both cat and dog were standing. “That Mousse must be given food the first thing, though we have none to spare.”
“He shall have half my breakfast,” Lucie promised. But this Paulette would not allow, though Mousse was not to be permitted to go hungry, as a contribution from each one was given him.
“I doubt if he stays, after all,” said Paulette. And he did not at first, though by degrees he spent more and more time with his old friends, accepting Pom Pom with much better grace than in the days of his frisky youth. Possibly it was a case of “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”