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The Lonesomest Doll

poor Mignon very much, but it was her only chance. Bound as she was she had managed to roll over a little, and was squeezing the doll flat upon the ground.

“Mamma, Mamma, Mamma!” The fifth cava­lier reined up his horse with a jerk and cried “Whoa!” Could he believe his ears? He listened a moment. “Mamma, Mamma, Mamma!” called Mignon again, at the top of her little bellows lungs.

With an exclamation of surprise the rider jumped down from his horse and began to look for the baby who was crying in the darkness. And then he soon came upon Clotilde, lying bound in the grass with her mouth tied in the robber’s handkerchief.

“My faith!” he cried; “who is this?” and he stooped to examine the little figure. Then Clo­tilde saw his face: it was Raoul, her Captain of the Guards. In a minute he recognized her also, and fell upon his knees fumbling with the knots of the cords which bound her.

“My Queen!” he gasped. “Oh, I trust that your Majesty is not hurt? We have had such a fright—and such a hunt to find you.” And he
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