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Besides, was not Grain-of-Salt his friend? They started thus. Palikare, still surprised, walked gravely along, led by Perrine. On through the streets they went. At first they met but few vehicles, and soon they arrived at a bridge which jutted into a large garden. "That's the Zoo," said Grain-of-Salt, "and I'm sure that they haven't got a donkey there like yours."
Perrine's eyes filled with fresh tears, soft tears which washed away the bitterness of the burning ones which for two days had flowed from her eyes. "How good you all are to me," she murmured. "One does what one can," said Grain-of-Salt. "One should not leave an honest little girl like you on the streets of Paris," said the Baroness.
From now on the traffic was intense. Perrine needed all her wits and eyes about her. After what seemed a long time they arrived at the Market and Grain-of-Salt jumped off the donkey. But while he was getting down Palikare had time to gaze about him, and when Perrine tried to make him go through the iron gate at the entrance he refused to budge.
She knew she must leave the cemetery, yet she hesitated and turned once more towards the grave that she had just left, but the Baroness stopped her. "As you are obliged to go, go at once; it is best," she said. "Yes, go," said Grain-of-Salt.
When Palikare saw that instead of being hitched to the wagon, a rope was put round his neck, his surprise was great; and still more surprised was he when Grain-of-Salt, who did not want to walk all the way from Charonne to the Horse Market, climbed up on a chair and from the chair onto his back. But as Perrine held him and spoke to him, he offered no resistance.
Grain-of-Salt would buy it himself; he bought everything, furniture, clothes, tools, musical instruments ... but a donkey! That was another thing. He did not buy animals, except pups, and his advice was that they should wait for a day and sell it at the Horse Market. That would be on Wednesday.
I did not want to go in this miserable state...." "When must we go? Today?" asked Perrine. "No; it's too late today. We must go tomorrow morning. You go and find out the hours of the train and the price of the tickets. It is the Gare du Nord station, and the place where we get out is Picquigny." Perrine anxiously sought Grain-of-Salt.
Why don't you go to Grain-of-Salt?" "I don't know Grain-of-Salt." "Why, he owns the Guillot Fields. You needn't be afraid of him, and he'd shoot anybody who tried to get in his place." "Will it cost much to go there?" "It costs a lot in winter, when everybody comes to Paris, but at this time I'm sure he won't make you pay more than forty sous a week. And your donkey can find its food in the field.
"It's a lot, but it won't be more than forty sous, and so as to make sure, you'll have to pay him in advance." Following the directions that Grain-of-Salt gave her, she easily found the house, but the doctor had not yet risen, so she had to wait. She sat down on a bench in the street, outside a stable door, behind which a coachman was harnessing a horse to a carriage.
Many times that night Perrine, lying beside her mother, had jumped up and run to the well for water so as to have it fresh. In spite of her desire to fetch the doctor as early as possible the next morning, she had to wait until Grain-of-Salt had risen, for she did not know what doctor to call in. She asked him.
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