The Lonesomest Doll (1928)/Chapter 14

by Abbie Farwell Brown

XIV

How Mignon Saved the Queen

Clotilde heard their gallop growing fainter and fainter along the road towards the Black Wood. But there were other sounds growing louder every minute. The hoofs of horses were striking sparks from the flint stones over which she and the rob­bers had recently passed, and they meant help, help! Mignon was saved, and they were both soon to be taken home! How Clotilde’s heart warmed at the anticipation.

But suddenly a dreadful thought came to her. It was very dark. What if the rescuers should pass them by in the blackness? The moon had gone under a cloud, and Clotilde lay helpless in the shadow beside the road, unable to move or cry out. If the riders did not stop, they two would have to lie here all night, and it was growing chilly and damp. The forests were full of other evil things besides robbers,—wild beasts, wolves and bears and fierce boars with long white tusks. Even if she should not die of cold and ex­posure, these creatures would hardly spare her until morning. Poor Clotilde shivered and turned pale. This was indeed a rough night for a little Queen who had always been so well taken care of that till now she had scarcely known what fear was.

The sound of galloping hoofs came nearer and nearer. Clotilde caught sight of the foremost rider. He reached her—he passed without a sign. He had not seen. The second passed—the third. Oh, what should she do! Clotilde was in an agony. It was like a nightmare;—to see one’s danger, but not to be able to move, when the slightest motion would drive it away.

Suddenly a thought came to Clotilde. Mignon! Could not the poor tattered doll perhaps save her? Even as the fourth horseman passed, while the fifth and last was close upon her, a queer little voice rang out on the air.

“Mamma, Mamma, Mamma!” it cried, shrill and clear. Clotilde hoped she was not hurting 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 gave a shrill whistle to call back the other four horsemen, who had galloped beyond. So they all came clattering back, and with many excla­mations leaped from their horses to assist Raoul in freeing the Queen from her bonds.

And then she told them the story of the rob­bers, at which they growled and hissed and stamped with rage, and were for setting out immediately to capture and punish Jean and Jacques, and to get back Mignon’s jewels. But this the Queen forbade. “No,” she said, “I am safe now, and so is my doll,—though her gems are gone. But I do not care for that. Take us home, Raoul. I am so tired. Let the wicked robbers go until another time.”

“Until another time, then,” said the five, re­luctantly putting up their swords, and sighing with regret for the chase which they longed to begin. But they were so glad to have their little Queen safe and sound that they soon forgot everything else in the joy of carrying her back with them to the palace.