Маленька принцеса
Melchisedec
Perhapsthereisalanguagewhichisnotmadeofwordsandeverythingintheworldunderstandsit.Perhapsthereisasoulhiddenineverythinganditcanalwaysspeak,withoutevenmakingasound,toanothersoul.Butwhatsoeverwasthereason,theratknewfromthatmomentthathewassafe—eventhoughhewasarat.Heknewthatthisyounghumanbeingsittingontheredfootstoolwouldnotjumpupandterrifyhimwithwild,sharpnoisesorthrowheavyobjectsathimwhich,iftheydidnotfallandcrushhim,wouldsendhimlimpinginhisscurrybacktohishole.Hewasreallyaverynicerat,anddidnotmeantheleastharm.Whenhehadstoodonhishindlegsandsniffedtheair,withhisbrighteyesfixedonSara,hehadhopedthatshewouldunderstandthis,andwouldnotbeginbyhatinghimasanenemy.Whenthemysteriousthingwhichspeakswithoutsayinganywordstoldhimthatshewouldnot,hewentsoftlytowardthecrumbsandbegantoeatthem.AshediditheglancedeverynowandthenatSara,justasthesparrowshaddone,andhisexpressionwassoveryapologeticthatittouchedherheart.
Shesatandwatchedhimwithoutmakinganymovement.Onecrumbwasverymuchlargerthantheothers—infact,itcouldscarcelybecalledacrumb.Itwasevidentthathewantedthatpieceverymuch,butitlayquitenearthefootstoolandhewasstillrathertimid.
"Ibelievehewantsittocarrytohisfamilyinthewall,"Sarathought."IfIdonotstiratall,perhapshewillcomeandgetit."
Shescarcelyallowedherselftobreathe,shewassodeeplyinterested.Theratshuffledalittlenearerandateafewmorecrumbs,thenhestoppedandsniffeddelicately,givingasideglanceattheoccupantofthefootstool;thenhedartedatthepieceofbunwithsomethingverylikethesuddenboldnessofthesparrow,andtheinstanthehadpossessionofitfledbacktothewall,slippeddownacrackintheskirtingboard,andwasgone.
