“The Little Mademoiselle was very good to me when I was homesick on the third day. It was while the sun was going down, and we were sitting on a mound near a river where we could see it. It made me think of how we used to watch it sinking behind the woods when we used to come across the meadow with Dian and the sheep, and—and—I cried.” Poor Jean blushed as he admitted the last. “So did I almost. There were tears in my eyes, and some you didn’t see slid right down my cheeks, Jean. It was glorious, sitting there by the river, watching the sun say good-by to it, making it all gold and pink. I told Jean about the 'Song of Roland’ and we pretended to listen for his horn echoing down from the hills, just the way it must have sounded to the soldiers long ago when Roland blew the last blast as he was dying in the hills. The next day we had a long ride in a farmer’s cart. He was a fierce man with bristling moustaches even though he was a farmer. He said he hoped the guillotine would put an end to every aristo in the country. That ride helped a good deal, and when the farmer asked if we were hungry and we said we were, he gave us some young radishes and a half loaf of bread.” Marie Josephine stopped for a moment to draw a long breath, and then said regretfully: “We didn’t really have any exciting adventure except the one of the old green mill. We just trudged along and everyone took us for poor tramp children, though they all stared and asked questions about Flambeau. That was one reason why we left him with some nice children who lived in a house near Melon. They promised to take good care of him until we came for him, and to keep him locked up until we were out of sight so he could not follow us. I knew that Flambeau would make it much harder for us when we came to Paris, he looks so——” “Such an aristo,” suggested Lisle. They all laughed. “That’s it,” assented his sister. “He’s such an aristo.” Dian stood up suddenly, and going over to the stairs, listened. Then he started back a little, putting his hand out warningly toward the children. The next instant a breathless voice came down to them: “Tha said well when tha said the sliding was not large; an’ I live to reach the cellar I shall never come back again!” They all ran eagerly to the foot of the stairs. There, coming down backward, was Humphrey Trail and in front of him, moving cautiously, her hand on his shoulders, was Rosanne. Dian was up the stairs and had shut the panel in a second. Then he waited a few minutes, listening. When he returned Humphrey was surrounded by the children. Jean sat on his knee, Marie Josephine stood on one side, Rosanne next her, the two friends holding hands, and in front of him stood Lisle. Lisle was speaking and Marie Josephine was more surprised at his words than at the arrival of the farmer and Rosanne.