He was down again like a flash, through the storeroom to the bakery shop where confusion reigned. Cakes were scattered broadcast, and broken china dishes lay in scattered heaps on the floor and counter. Dian with one quick, strong gesture had flung his cloak about Lisle as he ran with him down the stairway. Holding him close in his arms he ran on through the shop, out into the freedom of the streets! Dian ran steadily and easily. He was used to long stretches of countryside, but he was not used to the tortuous, winding streets of Paris. He knew that some of those in the shop must have seen him, but as he had completely covered Lisle with his cloak he hoped that, had any one given him a thought, it would be only to surmise that he had run off with some especially choice piece of loot. He turned in and out of several narrow, twisted streets, and at last stopped for a moment in the shadow of a doorway. He listened but could hear nothing but the usual roar of the city all about them. Then he put Lisle gently to the ground, throwing the cloak back so that he could see his face in the dim light. “It’s Dian, Little Master,” he said. Lisle, having been for several weeks confined in one small room with little fresh air, and having nothing to eat for the last two days, or at any rate, only enough to appease the bakery woman who had been concerned at his indisposition, was dazed and weak. He had been threatened one moment by the baker, and the next moment grabbed by some one, covered with a cloak, and run with at a tremendous pace, and now in a doorway in the heart of Paris, Dian was holding him, speaking in quiet, familiar tones. Lisle put his head down in the hollow of his arm and stood very still for a moment. “We’re going home, Little Master. We’ll be there soon,” Dian said again, and Lisle turned toward him as children and animals always did. “Yes, home,” he said weakly, but when Dian offered to carry him, he shook his head. “It’s better so, Little Master, for dressed as you are you will not be safe in the streets. It’s near now, and soon you’ll be safe and quiet.” Dian lifted him as he spoke and walked quickly with his long, easy strides until he came to the Saint Frère house. He went in through the cellar window, turned and drew Lisle in after him, then listened intently. There was no sound anywhere. Then he struck the flint and tinder which he kept on a shelf near the window and lit a lanthorn which he also kept on the shelf. It was the same green lanthorn which Marie Josephine had lit when she went down to the secret cellar. Then Dian spoke to Lisle.