That was the night after the rescue, and now the fifth day had come. Dian left him at intervals, bringing back food for them both. He shook his head when Lisle spoke of wanting to accompany him. “You shouldn’t run all the danger yourself, Dian. You risked your life for me. Don’t you see I’m strong now and ready to help? It’s my place to help you, to save mother and get her and Rosanne out of Paris. That was what was so awful about being in the baker’s shop, not doing anything, not being able to help,” he said, but Dian only shook his head as he rose from his work. “It’s lonely for you here and it’s dark and gloomy, too, but you are safe here and that is what counts the most. Never fear but your time will come to help. You’re helping now just by staying here. Your mother will be saved and she and Mademoiselle de Soigné will get safe out of Paris,” Dian answered. “How do you know? How can you tell, Dian?” Lisle jumped up and came and stood in front of the shepherd, who looked up from his work. “I can not tell you how I know, Little Master. I knew that I or the good Humphrey would find you,” and then Dian told again about discovering the note in the cake at the spinner’s supper. Lisle loved to hear the story. “It was wonderful,” he said slowly as Dian finished speaking and went on with his work. Then Lisle hesitated. It was not easy for him to show emotion or sentiment of any kind. He put his hand on Dian’s shoulder as he bent over the boards with his saw. “There is no one like you, Dian,” he said. The shepherd had waited for questions about the hidden cellar. It had amazed him that Lisle had not seemed to be surprised about it, but he was soon to know why. Lisle walked up and down for a time after he spoke to Dian. He rubbed his hand along the rough stone wall, lifted a corner of the tapestry curtain, and said: “It is very old, isn’t it, Dian?” “Very old, Little Master,” Dian replied. “Did my grandfather know about it?” was Lisle’s next question. “He knew and he told me,” came the shepherd’s answer. “Why did he not tell me, too?” demanded Lisle, and as he spoke he came back to the chest and sat down, looking eagerly across at Dian, his light brows drawn together in the frown that with him generally meant trouble. Dian stood up, straightening his great height. Then he walked slowly up and down the room, his hands locked in front of him, thinking deeply. When at last he answered Lisle he spoke slowly. “It is hard to tell you why, and I do not really know myself, except that it was always the Little Mademoiselle whom your grandfather thought the most about, and it was to her that he told the secret of the cellar. It is no longer a secret, and the time has come when it may shelter you all.” Lisle was standing in front of him, his eyes flashing blue fire.