“And I am Madame Dalmont, and I am not in the habit of fighting because I am not a man.”
Thélénie was irritated beyond measure by the young widow’s imperturbable calmness.
But while this dialogue was taking place between the two ladies, little Emile, thirsting for revenge for the blows he had received, picked up a large lump of earth and threw it with all his strength at the person who had beaten him. The clod did not reach her, but it struck one of the ears of her horse, and as it broke, spattered and soiled the beautiful blue skirt.
The horse, not expecting the assault, made a leap side-wise which might well have unseated his rider; but Thélénie, unshaken in her saddle, simply cried out in rage:
“Ah! you little villain!” she shrieked; “this time you shall feel my crop, and you’ll keep the marks of it!”
The lost child hid behind Honorine; but that obstacle did not seem to deter Thélénie.
“Stand aside, madame,” she cried; “move from in front of that rascal, or I won’t be answerable for my horse.”
“For heaven’s sake, madame, forgive the child!”
“No! no! and if you don’t move—So much the worse for you, if you get a taste of the crop too!”
With that the amazon urged her horse upon Honorine and the little boy; but, like the great majority of those noble-hearted creatures, the horse hesitated, stopped and tried to make a détour in order to avoid running down a woman and a child. The amazon persisted in her attempts to ride him upon them, when suddenly an unexpected defender changed the whole aspect of affairs. Ami rushed down the hill, and without pause or hesitation jumped at the rider, barking in a tone which indicated that he was not in a good humor.