The 101 Dalmatians by Dodie Smith Page B

her feel we want to be on our own.”
    â€œI do hope she can comfort the Dearlys,” said Pongo.
    â€œShe will wash them,” said Missis—and fell asleep.
    How gloriously they slept! It was their first really deep sleep since the loss of the puppies. Even the Twilight Barking did not disturb them. It brought good news, which the Retriever told them when he woke them, as soon as it was dark. All was well with the pups, and Lucky sent a message that they were getting more food than they could eat. This gave Pongo and Missis a wonderful appetite for the steaks that were waiting for them.
    While they ate, they chatted to the Retriever and his wife and their family, who lived at various houses in the village. And the Retriever told Pongo how to reach the village where the next day was to be spent—this had been arranged by the Twilight Barking. The steaks were finished and a nice piece of cheese was going down well when the Corgi from the post office arrived with an evening paper in her mouth. Mr. Dearly had put in his largest advertisement yet—with a photograph of Pongo and Missis (taken during the joint honeymoon).
    Pongo’s heart sank, for he felt the route planned for them was no longer safe. It led through many villages, where even by night they might be noticed—unless they waited till all humans had gone to bed, which would waste too much time. He said, “We must travel across country.”
    â€œBut you’ll get lost,” said the Retriever’s wife.
    â€œPongo never loses his way,” said Missis proudly.
    â€œAnd the moon will be nearly full,” said the Retriever. “You should manage. But it will be hard to pick up food. I had arranged for it to await you in several villages.”
    Pongo said they had eaten so much that they could do without food until the morning, but he hated to think dogs might be waiting up for them during the night.
    â€œI will cancel it by the Nine-o‘clock Barking,” said the Retriever.
    There was a snuffling at the back door of the stable. All the dogs of the village had arrived to see Pongo and Missis off.
    â€œWe should start at once,” said Pongo. “Where’s our young friend who wants paw-marks?”
    The Retriever’s youngest lad stepped forward shyly, carrying an old menu. Pongo and Missis put their pawtographs on the back of it for him, then thanked the Retriever and his family for all they had done.
    Outside, two rows of dogs were waiting to cheer. But no human ear could have heared the cheers, for every dog had now seen the photograph in the evening paper and knew an escape must be made in absolute silence.
    Pongo and Missis bowed right and left, gratefully sniffing their thanks to all. Then, after a last good-bye to the Retriever, they were off across the moonlit fields.
    â€œOn to Suffolk!” said Pongo.

Cross Country
    THEY were well rested and well fed, and they soon reached a pond where they could drink—the Retriever had told them to be on the lookout for it. (It would not have been safe for them to drink from his bowl again; too many humans were now about.) And their spirits were far higher than when they had left the house in Regent’s Park. How far away it already seemed, although it was less than twenty-four hours since they had been in their baskets by the kitchen fire. Of course they were still anxious about their puppies, and sorry for the poor Dearlys. But Lucky’s message had been cheering, and they hoped to make it all up to the Dearlys one day. And anyway, as Pongo said, worrying would help nobody, while enjoying their freedom to race across the fields would do them a power of good.
    He was relieved to see how well Missis ran and what good condition she was in. So much food had been given to her while she was feeding the puppies that she had never got pitifully thin—as Perdita had when she had fed her own puppies without being given extra food.
    â€œYou are a