Before him stood a young woman in a coarse gray dress, torn shawl, and wooden shoes. She was not happy looking and pretty like the newsgirls in Brussels, nor neat and fresh-faced like Mère Marie. She was a squat, dumpy sort of person, with a pale face and dull eyes and her mouth was drawn down at the corners.
At first she was as much startled as Pierrot, and a look of fear overspread her coarse features that was not pretty to see. But when she saw it was only a dog, the dull look came back to her eyes and she stood stolidly waiting.
Pierrot had never suffered ill at the hands of a woman, and the snarl died in his throat. The bristles on his neck lay down again and his tail began to move tentatively. He took an inquiring step toward the woman.
The ghost of a smile flitted across the peasant’s face and she slowly approached Pierrot with her thick palms outspread. The dog advanced a little nearer, with a cocking of the ears and a look of pleased inquiry in his eyes. Then the woman perceived that he was lame. Her slow sympathies quickened and she approached and laid her hand on his head. Then she stooped and felt of his leg, not too gently. It hurt Pierrot, but he only gave her ear a little caress with his moist nose.
“Poor fellow!” said the woman in Flemish. “Come, and we will wash it.”
Pierrot followed her as she walked toward a little grove of trees back from the road and entered the low doorway of a small hut. There was no one inside except an old gray cat, which at once retired to the rafters. At this the woman gave a low, short laugh.
The hut was a poor little place, indeed, and apparently the woman lived all alone in it, though there was a man’s smock hanging from a peg on the wall. She moved about with a sort of hopeless indifference, hanging a kettle of water in the chimney and building a little fire of faggots beneath it. Pierrot lay down before it and fell asleep again, for he was still very weary.
When the water was warm the woman took an old rag and washed Pierrot’s wound. He awoke and thumped his tail on the hard earthen floor, for the warm water felt very good. Then the woman tied the rag about his leg and bade him lie quiet.
Going to a cupboard, she brought out a half loaf of coarse black bread and cut off two slices. Then she got a bowl and a little meal and made a sort of broth or gruel. These she placed on the rude table and drew up a stool.
Pierrot did not move toward the table, but lay watching the woman with interest as she folded her hands and bowed her head.