Cecile, looking helpless, asked in English for bread and milk.
Of course the woman could not understand a word. She held up her
hands and proclaimed the stupendous fact that the children were
undoubtedly English to her neighbors, then burst into a fresh volley
of French.
And here first broke upon poor little Cecile the stupendous fact
that they were in a land where they could not speak a word of the
language. She stood helpless, tears filling her sweet blue eyes. A
group gathered speedily round the children, but all were powerless to
assist. It never occurred to anyone that the helpless little
wanderers might be hungry. It was Maurice at last who saw a way out
of the difficulty. He felt starving, and he saw rolls of bread within
his reach.
"Stupid people!" said the little boy. He got on a stool, and helped
himself to the longest of the fresh rolls. This he broke into three
parts, keeping one himself, giving one to Cecile, and the other to
Toby.
There was a simultaneous and hearty laugh from the rough party. The
peasant proprietor's brow cleared. She uttered another exclamation
and darted into her kitchen, from which she returned in a moment with
two steaming bowls of hot and delicious soup. She also furnished Toby
with a bone.
Cecile, when they had finished their meal, paid a small French coin
for the food, and then the little pilgrims left the village.
"The sun is shining brightly," said Cecile. "Maurice, me and you
will sit under that sand hill for a little bit, and think what is
best to be done.
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