ld still see Mother
Barberin's house, but it was getting smaller and smaller. Many a time I
had walked this road and I knew that for a little while longer I should
still see the house, then when we turned the bend, I should see it no
more. Before me the unknown, behind me was the house, where until that
day I had lived such a happy life. Perhaps I should never see it again!
Fortunately the hill was long, but at last we reached the top. Vitalis
had not let go his hold.

"Will you let me rest a bit?" I asked.

"Surely, my boy," he replied.

He let go of me, but I saw him make a sign to Capi and the dog
understood. He came close to me. I knew that Capi would grab me by the
leg if I attempted to escape. I went up a high grassy mound and sat
down, the dog beside me. With tear-dimmed eyes I looked about for Mother
Barberin's cottage. Below was the valley and the wood, and away in the
distance stood the little house I had left. Little puffs of yellow smoke
were coming out of the chimney, going straight up in the sky, and then
on towards us. In spite of the distance and the height, I could see
everything very clearly. On the rubbish heap I could see our big fat hen
running about, but she did not look as big as usual; if I had not known
that it was our hen, I should have taken her for a little pigeon. At the
side of the house I could see the twisted pear tree that I used to ride
as a horse. In the stream I could just make out the drain that I had
had so much trouble in digging, so that it would work a mill made by my
own hands; the wheel, alas! had never turned, despite all the hours I
had spent upon it. I could see my garden. Oh, my dear garden!...

Who would see my flowers bloom? and my Jerusalem artichokes, who would
tend them? Barberin, perhaps, that wicked Barberin! With the next step
my garden would be hidden from me. Suddenly on the road which led to our
house from the village, I saw a white sunbonnet. Then it disappeared
behind some trees, then it came in view again. The distance was so great
that I could only see a white top, like a spring butterfly. It was going
in and out amongst the trees. But there is a time when the heart sees
better and farther than the sharpest eyes. I knew it was Mother
Barberin. It was she. I was sure of it.

"Well," asked Vitalis, "shall we go on now?"

"Oh, sir, no, please no."

"Then it is true what they say, you haven't any legs, tired out already.
That doesn't promise very good day