--"Heavens! Francine will fall," exclaimed the mother, stepping towards the path. He drew her back. --"Let them be," said he; "don't you know that there is nothing to fear when Josèphe has her eye upon them? Besides, _Brunette_ loves them better than her own kids; nor are they behind-hand in returning it. Heaven forgive me, if that creature isn't what they think most of--after us!" --"And after Monsieur Gabriel," chimed in their mother--"at least so far as Josèphe is concerned; for although he scarcely stayed more than a week in the lazaretto, and that's three years ago, the child never lets a day pass by without speaking of him." --"To tell the truth, the Lieutenant is a sort of man not easily to be forgotten," replied Ropars, "especially by the little one yonder, to whom he was so kind and made so many promises. Why, wasn't he to bring her all manner of wonderful things from the East? And by the bye, if nothing has happened to him, I believe that we shall pretty soon see him again, as well as the _Thetis_." --"In the meantime I must tell the children of another visit, which will also be no small treat for them." --"Whose?" --"Cousin's, and little Michael's." --"Dorot's coming?" inquired Mathieu, looking towards the platform of the Ile des Morts. "How do you know?" --"Can't we talk by signal just as well as his Majesty's ships?" said Geneviève laughing. "Look, he has hung out of his window three small red handkerchiefs; that's to tell us that he's coming over. Besides, I saw Michael going down to the Superintendent's." --"Bravo!" cried Ropars, his face lighting up; "your cousin and the boy must sup with us--that is to say, if your pantry is not quite so empty as your hospital." Geneviève protested, and then enumerated with an air of complacency all her culinary resources, which had fortunately been replenished, two days before, by the Superintendent, who supplied at the same time the powder-magazine and the lazaretto. Mathieu promised to complete the feast by broaching for the artillery-man an old bottle of Rousillon wine, stowed away for a long time under the sand of his cellar. The two little girls at this moment came up on to the terrace. --"Quick, here!" cried Geneviève, "quick; there's somebody coming." --"Monsieur Gabriel?" asked Josèphe, springing forward with this exclamation. --"No, no, goose-cap--cousin Dorot and little Michael." An involuntary gesture of disappointment escaped from the child; but Francine clapped her hands and broke out into shouts of joy. The goat, left to herself, bounded along the precipitous slopes of the rocks, where she set to work browsing on the tufts of brackish herbage; the sisters took each other's hand to go down towards the little landing-place; whilst their mother went into the house with a view of getting everything in readiness.