At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares.

Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it.  He jumped out and bit her nose.

She awoke and thought she heard him yelping still.  She listened, but she was mistaken.

She fell asleep again and found herself on a high road, an endless road, which she followed.  Suddenly in the middle of the road she perceived a basket, a large farmer’s basket, lying there, and this basket frightened her.

She ended by opening it, and Pierrot, concealed in it, seized her hand and would not let go.  She ran away in terror with the dog hanging to the end of her arm, which he held between his teeth.

At daybreak she arose, almost beside herself, and ran to the chalk pit.

He was yelping, yelping still; he had yelped all night.  She began to sob and called him by all sorts of endearing names.  He answered her with all the tender inflections of his dog’s voice.

Then she wanted to see him again, promising herself that she would give him a good home till he died.

She ran to the chalk digger, whose business it was to excavate for chalk, and told him the situation.  The man listened, but said nothing.  When she had finished he said: 

“You want your dog?  That will cost four francs.”  She gave a jump.  All her grief was at an end at once.

“Four francs!” she said.  “You would die of it!  Four francs!”

“Do you suppose I am going to bring my ropes, my windlass, and set it up, and go down there with my boy and let myself be bitten, perhaps, by your cursed dog for the pleasure of giving it back to you?  You should not have thrown it down there.”

She walked away, indignant.  Four francs!

As soon as she entered the house she called Rose and told her of the quarryman’s charges.  Rose, always resigned, repeated: 

“Four francs!  That is a good deal of money, madame.”  Then she added:  “If we could throw him something to eat, the poor dog, so he will not die of hunger.”

Mme. Lefevre approved of this and was quite delighted.  So they set out again with a big piece of bread and butter.

They cut it in mouthfuls, which they threw down one after the other, speaking by turns to Pierrot.  As soon as the dog finished one piece he yelped for the next.

They returned that evening and the next day and every day.  But they made only one trip.

One morning as they were just letting fall the first mouthful they suddenly heard a tremendous barking in the pit.  There were two dogs there.  Another had been thrown in, a large dog.

“Pierrot!” cried Rose.  And Pierrot yelped and yelped.  Then they began to throw down some food.  But each time they noticed distinctly a terrible struggle going on, then plaintive cries from Pierrot, who had been bitten by his companion, who ate up everything as he was the stronger.