﻿THE BASKET OF CHERRIES. 201 



she recognized the poor little girl whom she had formerly called her 

 darling, whom she had regaled with her bread and her cherries, and 

 whom, in the clearing, on the night of her great adventure, she had 

 seen so brutally treated by one of the Bohemians. And the Bohe- 

 mians of the clearing, thought she, were they not indeed these jug- 

 glers ? And the goat, which was at this moment balancing itself on 

 the topmost round of the chairs, could it be 



" It is your goat, my good lady," said the danseuse, in a low voice, 

 making a sign of secresy. Then she added, in a still lower tone : 

 " Pray save me ! ' 



Much affected by this scene, Bathilde ran, flew to relate all to her 

 mother. M'me de Blinval appealed to the authorities ; and, an hour 

 afterwards, the company of Bohemians was arrested in the middle 

 of the square and conducted to a place of security. 



Pepita, the young danseuse, who had implored the assistance of 

 Bathilde, related the manner in which the goat had been stolen, 

 and then added : 



" I also was stolen by the gypsies; my parents, poor laborers, lived 

 in a Spanish village on the frontier. When I was stolen, I did not 

 know a word of French, and was much too feeble to think of making 

 myself understood, too young to accuse these wicked people, forced 

 to obey them, to follow them in their life, which I detest, and to imi- 

 tate them in their exercises, which I abhor ; I demand succor ; I im- 

 plore my liberty ! " 



This simple explanation, this confession, so naive and so noble, 

 were received as they deserved. The miserable Gitanos saw them- 

 selves condemned to a severe penalty, at the expiration of which they 

 were to be driven from the kingdom. A letter was written to Pe- 

 pita's parents, but the reply was that they were both dead, and had 

 left no property. 



Meanwhile M'me de Blinval had received poor Pepita at her 

 house. After having discharged the sad duty of informing the 

 young girl of the death of her parents, she asked her what she 

 intended to do. 



" Ah ! my good lady ! " cried Pepita, shedding a torrent of tears, 

 " if you could find me a place on some farm the fields lam 

 good for nothing else and I love them so much ! " 



