Jeanne took the loaf gladly and hastened to her playmates. She knew that they were hungry, for none of them had eaten since early morning. Her appearance with the bread was greeted with cries of joy. Bread was a commonplace the day before; now it had become something precious. So little are blessings prized until they are gone.
The loaf was large, but even a large loaf divided into many pieces makes small portions. These were eaten eagerly by the children, and the youngest began to cry for more. Jeanne had foreseen that this would be the case, so had not eaten her share.
Quietly now she divided it among the smallest tots, giving each a morsel. Shamefacedly Pierre plucked her by the sleeve.
“You have had none,” he remonstrated. “And I––I have eaten all that you gave to me.”
“That is well, Pierrelot.” His sister smiled at him reassuringly. “I shall eat when the bread comes from the market town. We must go to the castle now. Mother said that we were to go there after we had eaten. Every one is to sleep there to-night.”
“But there are no beds,” broke in Colin in an aggrieved tone.
“No, Colin; there are no beds, but even so floors are better than the fields. There would be no safety outside the walls on account of the wolves.”
“Wolves?” Colin whitened perceptibly, and the children huddled closer together. “I did not think of wolves. Is there in truth danger?”
“The men fear so, because some of the cattle and sheep were trampled to death by the others, and their carcasses may draw them. We are to use the castle until the houses are thatched.”