“Oh! I recognize him,” said Agathe; “it’s the boy who chased the cow that frightened you so.”
“Pardi! he don’t know to do anything but mischief, the wicked little scamp.—But I’ll teach you!”
And the peasant made ready to strike the boy, who neither stirred nor spoke, and seemed to care little whether he was beaten or not.
But Honorine stopped Poucette with a gesture; then she sat down on a bench and beckoned the boy to her.
He hesitated, but at last decided to go to her, after casting a savage glance at Poucette.
“Why do you come here to take my cherries?” inquired Honorine in a gentle voice, and looking at the little thief with no trace of anger.
He seemed astonished to be spoken to otherwise than harshly; he lowered his eyes and answered at last:
“Well! I like cherries, I do.”
“Even so, that is no reason for taking what doesn’t belong to you,—for climbing a wall. Do you know what a risk you run? If the constable had seen you he would have arrested you; he might have taken you to prison, and they would have kept you a long time perhaps, as a vagrant, a bad boy.”
“Oh! I’m too small; they don’t put little boys in prison!”