Marie Josephine was half asleep, her funny, tangled shock of hair on Rosanne’s shoulder, but her eyes, when she looked up at Dian, were bright with excitement. “I may go to maman to-morrow, promise me, Dian. I told you in the alley room that I would be patient about not seeing her to-night, but to-morrow early I must go straight to her and to Great-aunt Hortense. It will be quite safe for me in the streets in my disguise.” She caught his arm and looked up at him as she spoke. Dian looked down at Marie Josephine and said to her simply: “There is real work for you to do to-morrow. You have come just in time, and you have not come in vain, Little Mademoiselle. I hope that you will see your mother to-morrow.” CHAPTER XXII CHAMPAR TO THE RESCUE Grigge unfastened the sheepfold gate and then turned and faced Neville, who stood beside him. “You’d better stop worrying about those who are away, and keep your worry for those at home,” he said. “What do you mean by that, Grigge? There’s no danger to Les Vignes. The trouble is all the other way,” Neville answered, leaning back against the grey paling. He was tired out and covered with mud. He had just returned from a vain attempt to find the runaways, and he was not eager to face either the governess or Mother Barbette. “Things happen quickly these days. You can’t tell what may happen next. Your fine friends up at the house are none too safe. There were five fires not so very far from here only last week. One of the houses burned was the home of a friend of the old man’s.” By “the old man,” Grigge meant Marie Josephine’s grandfather. Neville’s face was white in the dancing sunshine. He was not able to deny the truth of what Grigge said, and he was thinking of the two lost children. He did not know what to do. “Dian should never have gone away. It would be better, a thousand times better, to have Dian with us,” he said. Grigge nodded. Here was one point on which he thoroughly agreed with Neville. “That’s true! He shouldn’t have wasted his time looking out for those that don’t deserve it. He’s worth all of them put together!” he said. Then he suddenly thought of the fight he had had with Jean, and of how the Little Mademoiselle had cried out, “What would Dian say!” As he stood there kicking his heels against the wooden gate, Grigge knew that he cared more about what Dian would say than about anything else in the world, for Dian had helped him to keep his hold on life, and to fight despair. He had taught him to love the sun and the stars, the flowers and the young animals. It was easier to love these than to love people.