Starting up from her seat in alarm she was about to reënter the house when she heard at the gate a little whining sound, then a quick sharp bark. “Pom Pom,” she called, “is it then you?”
A joyful bark answered. She ran to the gate, admitting the little creature, who jumped upon her in wild delight. “I wonder where you have been,” said Lucie, gathering him up in her arms. Pom Pom tried to explain in dog language, but Lucie did not understand that he was trying to tell her of his adventures, and that he had followed for some distance a rapidly moving something which was bearing away his beloved master, that finding he could not overtake this galloping monster he had returned to the station, nosed about till he caught the right scent and so had traced his second best beloved to this present spot.
“I suppose you are hungry,” remarked Lucie.
Pom Pom quite understood this and answered accordingly. His answer brought Marianne to the door. “Is it this so wonderful dog you have there?” she asked. “He shall have food of the best. If he prefers, mademoiselle, he shall have it there in the garden. I will bring it to him.”
She went off, soon returning with a dish of meaty scraps and a pan of milk upon which Pom Pom set to work without delay, finishing up by licking both pan and dish. Then he lay down contentedly at Lucie’s feet.
She had settled herself comfortably in a high-backed rustic chair which stood invitingly in the shade. It was a delightful resting place. The flitting of birds, the hum of bees, the odor of flowers, gave her a homelike feeling. She was very tired, she realized, for she had endured a rough journey, and her sleep of the night before had been none too sweet. It was a kind Providence which had led her into such a spot as this, yet, she reflected, it was all of Victor’s doing. Grandfather, where was he? When would she hear from her parents? What of Annette? These and other wandering questions passed through her mind, becoming more and more vague till finally both little dog and little girl were sound asleep.
CHAPTER VII
A STRANGE GARRET
THE shadows had grown very long and the sunset light in the western sky had faded to a twilight hue when Lucie was suddenly awakened by a sharp bark from Pom Pom. She sat up expecting to see a more familiar face than that of Mons. Carriere who bent over her. Pom Pom, as protector, was protesting against the too near approach of any one save a member of the family. As soon as Lucie came to a realizing sense of where she was, she sprang up asking eagerly: “My grandfather? Have you found him?”
“Alas, no, my child,” was the disappointing reply. “It seems that he has not reached this town as yet.”
“But what—where is he then?”